Ezio's Creed
by Tibarn'Worshipper
Summary: After escaping from a nearly failed mission, Ezio meets a girl that will change his entire life.
1. Canal Surprise

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respective owners. I do not own Ezio, the canals, or Italy (yet). However, I do own Clara.**

**Flamers will be persecuted, so flame at your own risk!!**

Ezio Auditore was not having a good day.

Only a few hours ago he had gotten a mission, an assassination of course. Everything had been going fine, the target(some overstuffed noble that had the brain of a flea) had been taken care of, Ezio hadn't suffered any injuries (the noble's bodyguards…not so much), and his escape was in plain sight (just walk out of the front door). Then that archer had appeared…

At the sight of the bow, Ezio had immediately jumped out of the closest window into the canal below. But he hadn't been fast enough. Right before his body had hit the dark waters, an arrow punctured his arm, sending a jolt of pain racing through his body.

_**Kerploosh!**_

Hitting the water hurt, but the pain in his arm was worse. Ezio gritted his teeth but kept his mouth closed. With one swift movement he plucked the arrow out of his arm and let it drift off into the unknown. That done, he kicked his legs and stroked. In all honesty, he had no idea where he was going. For all he knew he was swimming back towards the mansion, or was about to smash into a canal wall.

He didn't know how long he stayed under, although it was probably only a few minutes. The water passed through his fingers like silk. The water was cold; it numbed the pain in his arm until the pain was only an annoying glow. It was not until his lungs felt like bursting did Ezio surface.

He had ended up in some back alleyway. There was a small cluster of shops and homes that lined the canal, but most were boarded up. The canal waters were dirty and random, rotted gondolas floated about, empty of people. It was completely quiet – no one seemed to be around – except for the cooing of some pigeons.

Ezio grasped the edge of a dock to his right. He lifted his other arm to pull himself out of the water. He got half way out when he came face - to - toe with a pair of brown boots.

_Mary, Mother of God what now?_

The assassin froze, his dark eyes transfixed on the worn. Absently he noted that this person had small feet. Slowly, his gaze lifted to see dark blue material in the shape of the skirt. He craned his neck back to see better, and met the shocked eyes of a women.

A sigh of relief escaped from Ezio's lips. It was just a woman, no older than he was by the looks of her. He blinked and took a second look at the female. Her dark brown curls fell below her shoulders and framed her face nicely. By the look of her clothing she was most likely a commoner; her dress was made from rough cotton, nothing special.

The girl's hazel eyes were wide with shock. Ezio couldn't blame her. It wasn't every day that someone just popped out of a canal brandishing every type of weapon known to man and bleeding heavily from the shoulder; this was probably the most interesting thing that had ever happened in her entire life.

Neither person said a word, the girl too startled to do anything, and Ezio not sure what exactly to do. Eventually, the noble decided that it would be best if he just slipped back into the water and swam away. Before he could move though, the girl spoke.

"If you're running, er, swimming from the guards, you should head to the market area." The girl's voice was soft and gentle; one would never guess that she was probably scared out of her wits.

Ezio only stared at the girl, surprised that she had spoken.

"They already went through there," the girl continued, "The guards are too lazy and undisciplined to check an area twice. Besides," her eyes settled on his wounded arm, "there's a good doctor there. Just ask for Prosper."

Ezio nodded and decided to take her advice. She was a commoner and had no reason to wish him harm. And with what he had seen of the security in his late target's home, she was probably right about the guards.

The assassin pushed off of the dock and once again was surrounded by cold water. He kicked his legs a few times, then stopped. He pushed back up to the surface and looked back at the dock. Girl had her back to him, about to walk off.

"Thank you!" Ezio called before submerging himself and swimming off.

Clara Vitellio spun around at the "thank you" and stared at the spot where she had seen the white hood sink back into the canal's murky waters. She took a step forward and scanned the surface of the water, trying to find the mysterious man. After a few fruitless minutes, she gave up. He was probably long gone by now.

She turned from the dock and started home. But before she left the street she looked back over the now placid surface of the canal. A small smile crept across her face. "You're welcome." She whispered.

End of chapter 1: Canal Surprise

**So what do you think? Love it, hate it? Sorry it's so short, but my computer deleted part of it and I can't remember everything I wrote. Chapter 2 will be longer! I promise!!**

**Chapter 2 will be up soon. Please review!!**


	2. The Bakery

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed, Ezio, or Leonardo. I own Clara and her entire family though. All characters belong to their respective owners.

Woot! Chapter 2 is up! Quick note before reading: During this time period, it was considered heresy if a woman worked or wore men's clothing (i.e. pants)

It was early morning in Venice, Italy. The sun was just starting to come up, its golden light starting to cover the city. Birds were singing their melodies to the skies, their chests thrust forward in pride. In the upper class section of Venice, not a soul moved. Italy's high society was still in bed, sleeping away several precious hours of time. But in the middle and lower class sections, the day had already begun. Hawkers were setting up their stalls and laying out their merchandise. Women of all sizes, some dragging along crying children, rushed in and out of bakeries to get fresh loaves of bread for breakfast. Construction workers were already hauling lumber to partially finished buildings, relishing the few quiet hours before an uptight architect came screaming at how they were doing their job wrong again.

There was hardly any conversation; people kept quiet in the mornings. It was like an unwritten rule for the under classes of Venice; enjoy the beauty of the morning, and keep your mouth shut so others also could.

It was a rule, which, at this very moment was being broken by two men.

"Ezio! I'm over here! Are you even listening to me? Ezio!"

Ezio Auditore de Firenze glanced back at his friend, Leonardo da Vinci. "What was that?" he asked innocently.

Leonardo's eye twitched, "I asked if you heard anything I just said." He hissed through clenched teeth.

Ezio debated on whether or not to answer truthfully. In the end, goodness prevailed… somewhat.

"Nope." He said cheerfully.

The men were walking through a partially crowded street, ignoring the glares of silent passerbyers, and not even attempting to keep their voices down. If Leonardo had been alone, there was no doubt that someone would reach out and punch him in the mouth to shut him up. There was nothing threatening about this small, unmuscular man. However, the man's companion was another matter. There was something eerie about the way he was dressed; a long, white and red tunic, a brown cape thrown over white shoulder, and the hood that hid his face. This man was mysterious, and mysteries scared people.

Leonardo sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, "Well, listen this time. I'm not repeating this again."

Ezio nodded, knowing that his friend would probably repeat it three more times out of nervousness.

"We're heading to a well known middle class bakery," da Vinci explained, "Your next target; the eldest son of the Medici family often goes there."

Ezio interrupted. "A noble goes to a middle class bakery?" he asked, skeptical.

Da Vinci grimaced. "He's well known for sleeping with middle class women, and this baker has three daughters."

"Oh…"

"Anyway," Leonardo continued, "The owner of the bakery happens to be a good friend of mine. He's allowed you to work undercover in his shop so you can spy on your target. You'll be disguised as the new worker-"

"Hold on." Ezio interrupted again, "What do you mean by "worker"?"

"Since you're well known among the nobles for killing, he Medici boy will think it odd if you suddenly showed up." Leonardo said as if it should be perfectly obvious, "He'll figure something is up and most likely leave the country. And if you're really in the mood to go wandering the continent to find him…"

"All right." Ezio waved his hand. He still wasn't excited about it though. Since he had grown up as a noble's child, he had done little to no work in his childhood. But if it was a challenge, he would do it. "So what will I be doing as a "worker" exactly?"

Leonardo shrugged, "Whatever you're told, I suppose. Now please behave, Ezio."

The assassin's eyes widened in mock hurt, "What are you talking about? I always behave!"

"I don't see any pigs flying." Leonardo retorted.

Ezio playfully hit him on his shoulder. "So where will I be staying? You don't expect me to sleep in the streets, do you?"

"No, you won't be sleeping in the street. The baker's eldest daughter just got married so there's an extra room. You'll stay in there and also eat with the family. Just think of them as your family."

Ezio mulled that over for a few minutes. Eventually he said, "If they're going to be my family, shouldn't I at least know their last name?"

The Renaissance genius pointed to a sign that hung over a large shop, "Take a look for yourself."

The noble looked up at the sign, squinting at the sun's blinding light. _Vitellio Bakery_.

"Vitellio?" Ezio asked.

They had arrived.

"Clara, hurry up with those rolls!"

"I don't control the rate at which rolls bake, papa!" Clara called jokingly as he father rushed past her carrying trays of baked goods to put on display. Her father managed a quick smile before heading into the main room of the bakery.

Clara sighed and glanced at the oven. The rolls should be done soon. Her older brother, Scipio, almost knocked into her as he raced in from the chicken coop. "Be careful with the eggs!" Clara yelled catching one as it was jostled out of the basket. Scipio nodded his thanks then frowned, "Are you supposed to be working?" he asked.

Clara glared at him, "Yes, I am. Now get a move on." Scipio hurried past her and started breaking the eggs for the next patch of dough.

Pulling on a pair of old oven mitts, Clara opened the oven door and very carefully pulled out a rack of finished rolls. She placed the tray on a counter and started to knead dough for another batch.

Yes, a woman was actually working. A woman was doing a man's job. And doing it better than any man ever could. It was silly, really, how women weren't allowed to do any work. All that they were supposed to do was sit around, sew, and look pretty for any passing bachelor who was in need of a bride. So much more could be done if women were allowed to work. Clara had always worked, much to the chagrin of her father and brothers. At first they had protested, but Clara had put up a long fight, and they had surrendered. They still tried to talk her out of working at the bakery. They called it "dangerous"; Clara called it common sense. Especially today. It was Friday, there busiest day. Considering the fact that Clara's other brother, Anton, was sick, her younger sister was visiting their aunt, and he oldest sister was married, there were only Scipio and their father to run an entire bakery. So Clara had gotten up before either of the men, and had three loaves of bread, a cake, and two dozen rolls baked and ready to go before they even came down stairs.

And they said they didn't need her.

However, Clara had succumbed to one of her father's wishes. For her "protection", he was to dress as a boy while she worked in the bakery. She was dressed in a white tunic, a brown apron, and, glorious things, pants.

Clara shook her head and smiled. A woman that worked _and_ wore pants. Such a scandal.

She tore off parts of the dough and started to roll them into balls. The balls of dough were then placed on a pan, ready to go into the oven for baking. Half the pan was filled when Scipio stuck his head back in the kitchen. "Papa wants you. He needs you to bring refreshments for two guests."

Guests? Clara and her brother exchanged wondering looks. Who had come to visit them?

"I didn't get a good look at them." Scipio said before Clara could ask, "Make sure you get a good look at them when you pass out the refreshments."

The second youngest Vitellio nodded and grabbed a cap and placed it on her head. She pushed her long hair under the cap; what boy had long, curly hair? Scipio had already loaded a tray with rolls, cups of coffee, and fruit. Clara added a meat pie then took the tray from her brother. She left the kitchen and went into the front room. She didn't see anyone sitting at any of the tables. _They must be in papa's office_ Clara thought to herself.

Being very careful so as not to spill anything, Clara crossed the room on the left side of the room, next to the broom closet was her father's study. Clara set the tray down on a close by table and knocked on the door. "Come in." she heard her father say.

She opened the door, grabbed the tray, and walked in.

And almost dropped the tray in surprise.

"Welcome! Welcome!"

Both Ezio and Leonardo were surprised when a portly man ran out of the bakery to greet them. Leonardo smiled a second later; "Piangi!" he cried and grabbed the man's outstretched hand.

The man's red face was smiling brightly, "It's been far too long!" he cried.

"It has," Leonardo agreed, "This is my friend, Ezio Auditore de Firenze. Ezio, this is Piangi Vitellio, owner of this bakery."

Piangi grasped Ezio's hand and pumped it up and down. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise." Ezio smiled a small smile. Piangi was probably in his late forties, if not early fifties. His bald head had a few tufts of graying black hair on it that hadn't been combed in a while. His head came up to Ezio's chest. He had probably been handsome in his day, but age had caught up with him, stooping his back and adding wrinkles to his face.

_Leonardo said he had three daughters_ Ezio thought. _I hope they don't look like him._

As if he could read Ezio's mind, Leonardo glared at him, warning him to be nice.

"You must come in!" Piangi started to pull Leonardo's sleeve.

Leonardo let himself be dragged into the bakery, motioning for Ezio to follow. Ezio did, hesitantly.

The bakery was actually a very pleasant place. There were several windows that allowed sunlight to spill in, giving the room a cheery effect. Tables and chairs were everywhere and a large stage dominated the right side of the room. The counter where one paid for their food had trays of delicious foods on display- steaming rolls, deliciously smelling pies, beautiful cakes. Potted plants were on every where and small vases holding wildflowers sat on every table. Not a bad place to have breakfast actually.

Piangi led the two men to a door on the left. "We'll talk in my study."

Piangi's study was quite small. There was a desk that took up most of the room, a few chairs, and a table. The desk was covered in papers and Ezio, his assassin's instincts kicking in, wondered how long it would take him to rifle through all of them.

Each man grabbed a chair and sat down around the table.

"Are you hungry?" Piangi asked.

Ezio nodded. Leonardo had been so anxious to get to the bakery on time that he hadn't allowed time for breakfast.

"Scipio!" Piangi called "Bring some refreshments for our guests, please."

There was a muffled, "Yes, sir" and some scuffling heard from the front room. Ezio smirked. It sounded as if the boy had tripped over one of the tables.

Leonardo, wanting to get straight to business, asked, "When does the Medici boy usually come here?"

Piangi frowned, "Around noon. He's very disruptive. Always makes a lot of noise and wants to see my daughters."

"How long does he usually stay?" Leonardo asked. Ezio kept silent. He rarely spoke during these meetings.

"An hour, sometimes longer." Piangi's eyes flickered to Ezio. "I'm scared for my daughters. I don't want then to end up like the other girls that boy has messed with!"

Ezio nodded. He would be doing the world a favor by ending the life of this pampered noble. The world's number of pregnant women in Venice would also go down. Besides, if Leonardo was right about him…

The assassin could hear the double meaning in Piangi's words. He wanted him to protect his daughters from the Medici target. Ezio silently accepted the man's request. Why not protect the man's daughters. This could be fun.

Piangi, who had been explaining Ezio's duties as a worker, was interrupted by a knock on the door. "That must be the food." He told Ezio whose stomach growled at that exact moment. "Come in." he said louder.

The door opened and a small boy stepped in the room. Ezio wasn't paying that much attention to him; he was more focused on the food the boy was holding. But then the boy gasped. Ezio looked up and froze.

Holy Mother Mary.

It was the girl who had seen him in the canal!


	3. New Worker

**Disclaimer: I own nothing blah, blah, blah.**

**Some people might be wondering why Leonardo da Vinci is in this. Well, it was said in the Game Informer magazine that Ezio is a good friend of Leonardo's, thus he is in here.**

**This chapter is dedicated to all the people who reviewed this story! Thank you for you support!! I hope this chapter is okay!**

The girl stood rooted in the spot, staring at Ezio for a good minute until her father cleared his throat. "Why don't you pass out the food?"

At the sound of her father's voice, the girl snapped into action. She placed a roll and a cup of coffee in front of everyone and then proceeded to cut slices of pie out.

Ezio had stopped listening to anything Leonardo or Piangi were saying ever since he had recognized the girl. Despite the fact that she was dressed up like a boy, Ezio knew it was her; the shock in her eyes had been the same as three days ago when they had first met. if jumping out of canal could be called a meeting.

Her back was toward him as she cut the pie; when she passed out the slices, she made it a point to avoid Ezio's eyes. Ezio frowned. He wasn't going to let her get away that easily. When she passed by his chair, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. She stiffened and tried to yank out of his grasp, but Ezio held firm. Yes, this was definitely a girl; the wrist was too delicate to be male.

Piangi stood up, almost knocking over his chair. Fear was written across his face. "What are you-?"

"This isn't a boy." Ezio stated. He stood up and before she could protest, took off the girl's cap.

Familiar brown curls fell down to their original position. The girl's hazel eyes were shocked at first, then quickly turned angry. A reddish tint spread across her cheeks and one of her hands balled up into a fist.

She looked absolutely adorable to Ezio.

Well wasn't this cute? A daughter was dressing up as a boy to help her father in the bakery. This girl was something. Most women Ezio knew wouldn't have the strenght let alone of intelligence to work an entire day. the girl he was holding was different. She was stronger than the others. It seemed that Ezio could see her soul through her bright hazel eyes.

And in the space of three minutes, this little baker's daughter had captured the heart of a noble - turned - assassin.

The girl tried once again to break free, but Ezio grabbed her other arm and held her tighter. The hazel eyes went to her father, pleading for assistance.

"Please let her go." Piangi's voice was fearful, but he would do what he had to to save his daughter.

"Who is she?" Ezio demanded. He wasn't letting go until he found out her name. He at least needed that. There was no way that he was going to keep referring to her as "that girl".

"M- my daughter, Clara." Piangi's voice was a little stronger. "Please, let her go. She's only eighteen."

"Clara." Ezio repeated the name. He appraised the girl; the name fit her. He smirked as a thought entered his head. "Well, Clara," he addressed his captive, "you're eighteen. It's about time for you to be getting married."

Clara Auditore. Hmm... That didn't sound half bad.

Clara's blush increased. "Let me go." She demanded, this time kicking Ezio in the shin.

Ezio released his hold on her and clutched his leg. She kicked hard for a girl! Brushing off the pain, Ezio grinned at Clara, who was now standing by her father. "You've got spunk, girl. I like you."

The brunette ignored him, "Who is this?" she asked (more like demanded) her father.

"Um… well this gentleman here," Piangi motioned to Leonardo, "is Leonardo da Vinci. And this other gentleman is-"

"Ezio Auditore de Firenze." Ezio introduced himself, grabbing Clara's hand and kissing it. Clara yanked her hand back and pushed Ezio's shoulders.

"You know, the more you push me away, the more I'm going to come after you."

Leonardo, who had watched the entire exchange with a worried expression, buried his face in his hands, "St. Luciana, no." he moaned. The last thing needed was yet another woman for Ezio to go chasing after. Was God punishing him for something he had done wrong?

Clara continued to glare to the assassin, "Why is he here?"

"Well, sweetie," Piangi sounded nervous. Who could blame him? Being the one to tell your child that someone that they obviously detested would be living with them for the next few months was not a good position to be in, "he's going to be… staying with us for a while."

Hazel eyes widened with indignation. "What?!"

Piangi flinched from the heat in his daughter's voice.

"You heard him." Ezio was greatly enjoying this, "I'm going to be staying here with you, angel."

"For what reason?" Clara seemed confused now. "By the way you're dressed, it doesn't seem as if you're part of the middle class; you're dressed in too nice of clothing for that. You obviously must be nobility. Why does a noble need to work at a lower class bakery? Are you here to spy on someone?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Ezio saw Leonardo start to sway as if he would faint. Leonardo had... issues when something unexpected happened. The girl had just said their objective without even realizing it. By the look in her eyes, Ezio doubted that she really believed what she had said; it had just been something that she had made up. Still, she was very perceptive.

"It builds character." Ezio said breezily.

Clara rolled her eyes, "Try that on someone who actually believes it."

"Papa!" Scipio stuck his head through the door, "We got customers!"

Piangi turned a pleading look in his daughter's direction, "Please, honey, show Ezio the ropes today."

"Papa!" Clara protested, "why me?"

_Thank you, Mary!_ Ezio prayed.

"I can't spare Scipio today what with it being Friday, and someone has to show Ezio how things are done around here!"

Clara sighed in defeat, "All right, I'll do it for you, daddy."

Piangi kissed his daughter's forehead before rushing out of the room to attend his customers.

"Well," Leonardo stood up and cleared his throat. "I'll send you you're stuff in a few days. I'll check up on you later." He stood up, shook Ezio's hand, bowed to Clara, and left.

"So," Ezio turned to Clara, "now that the two of us are alone…"

The brunette shoved her tray into Ezio's stomach. "I'll show you the kitchen first," she said briskly. She looked over his clothing, "and get you some new clothes."

She walked out of her father's office and back into the front room. Ezio followed her, already thinking of the fun he would be having with this girl. He was surprised to find that most of the tables in the bakery were now occupied.

Ezio ran and caught up with Clara, smashing her cap back on her head before people noticed her long hair. Clara gasped and practically sprinted back to the kitchen. Ezio followed at a slower pace.

When he reached the large kitchen, he saw Clara standing in the middle of the floor, waiting for him. Ezio casually walked u to her. "What should I do, angel?"

Clara ignored the "angel" part. "Thank you for reminding me about the cap." She said grudgingly, pulling on one lock of hair, "I don't even want to think of the uproar that would have happened if you hadn't…" she trailed off. Then she shook her head and grabbed two items from a nearby closet. She thrust the items at Ezio then continued to talk. "You can put the tray on the counter. Since there are customers here, I'm going upstairs to change into my regular clothes. I'll still be helping out in the kitchen though."

"What do you want me to do with these things?" Ezio asked, examining the objects. One was a bucket, even he could tell that, but the other object was alien to him. It was nothing more than a long, wooden stick with what looked like hair sticking out of one end.

"You are going to take the bucket, fill it up with water, then use the mop to clean the floor." Clara explained, already starting to leave the room. "I should be down in five minutes."

Oh, that's what that was! A mop. Thinking back, Ezio could remember one of his servants using this in his house. But one problem still remained. "Clara?" he called.

She came back into the room, "If this is some type of flirting thing or joke then I'm going to-"

"How does one "clean the floor" with a mop, exactly?"

**Considering the fact that Ezio was a noble before being an assassin, I highly doubt that he actually did servant's work as a child. Also, my guess is that Ezio is about 20 years old. **

**Wow, I did 2 chapters in one day! 0_o**

**Review, please!!!**


	4. Where Does He Think He's Going?

_Omg, here it is: the next chapter of Ezio's Creed!!!! Pull out the party decorations!! _

_A special thanks to everyone who reviewed/faved/story alerted this. You guys rock. And a big shout out to everyone who put me on their author alert/fave author list! _

_Dedication:…….. For everyone who has been with me since I first posted chapter 1. I love you guys!!!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Ezio or Assassin's Creed. Clara, her family, and Victor Medici I do own._

_Quick note: When I say Medici, I'm not talking about the actual, real Medici family._

Clara was just getting back from the market when she heard the crash.

It had been two weeks since that pest, Ezio had started working in her father's bakery, and she was on the verge of losing it. Ezio claimed that he had "worked" before but Clara knew that he was lying. On his first day, he had lost three chickens, spilled an entire tray of cakes on the floor, and started a small fire while making a _salad_. Clara knew that he wasn't who he said he was – a "normal, working man from Tuscany."

But who was he really? She could still remember the first time she saw him. The ominous, white hood, the bleeding arm, the awkward silence; it all seemed as fresh as if it had happened five minutes ago. What was his goal in working at her father's bakery?

She sighed. All that she could do was watch him like a hawk. Once, Ezio had caught her watching him and teased her for not being able to tear her eyes from his sculpted frame. _Yeah, keep dreaming, pal._

By now, Clara had reached the back gate that lead straight into the kitchen. She put her hand on the latch…

_Crash! _

Clara started at the loud sound. She threw the latch open, slammed the door shut in her haste, and rushed into the kitchen, eyes darting frantically around the room.

When she spotted the mess, Clara winced but her surprise ebbed away. _Typical. I leave for ten minutes and this happens._

Ezio was crawling on the floor on all fours, trying to pick up pieces of shattered crockery. He grabbed a rather large piece, noticed Clara, and looked up at her, smiling like a child who was found with their hand in the cookie jar.

"You're back." He said. "You know, I thought you were beautiful inside, but the sunlight does wonders for your skin-"

"What happened?" Clara asked, bending down to pick up some of the mess.

"Don't do that," Ezio said, grabbing her hand, "you might cut yourself on a sharp piece."

The physical contact flustered Clara. She drew her hand out of Ezio's hold and stood back up. "I'll get a broom." She said, her voice slightly nervous.

Ezio beamed up at her, "You don't seem too mad at me."

Clara grabbed the broom from the supply closet, "Honestly, I'm used to it by now. You always cause accidents like this."

Ezio took the broom from her and began to sweep the mess up himself, "I'm getting better though!" When Clara gave him a questioning look he said, "If this had happened last week, I would have broken a pitcher, some cups, and a load of plates. I only broke two cups!" he sounded proud of himself.

He did have a point though. Ezio's "accidents" were getting less catastrophic as time went by. "Let's hope that you hurry up and get to the point where you don't break anything." Clara said, actually smiling at him.

"You're smiling at me." Ezio pointed out.

"I know."

"But you never smile at me. Why now, sweetie?"

He got a shrug in response.

A silence descended on the kitchen for a few minutes. Finally Clara said, "I need to go give my brother his medicine."

"Already done." Ezio scooped up the pile of pottery and threw it away, "I gave it to him a few minutes before you came home."

"Really?" Clara asked.

Ezio nodded.

"Oh…" _Well that was… impressive, I guess._

"I'm going to check on the customers." Ezio said cheerily. He walked out of the kitchen only to run back in a few moments later.

"Clara!" he hissed her name.

"What? What happened?" Clara asked, confused by his sudden change in attitude.

"He's here!"

"Who?"

"Him!"

"That's really specific, Ezio."

"The Medici boy!"

"…. Is there a reason why he's so important? He comes here all the time."

"No, it's not that." Ezio was pacing the floor, his hands clasped behind his back.

Clara opened her mouth to say something, but Ezio suddenly spun towards her.

"I'm going to get his order."

One of Clara's eyebrows rose, "You're not calm enough to do so. He'll think you're slow in the mind or something."

"What are you talking about? I'm calm."

"Ezio…"

"All right!"

Ezio took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders back, and smiled. "Happy?" he asked Clara, his voice no longer strained.

Clara nodded, "Go on."

Ezio marched out of the kitchen like a soldier. After a few seconds, Clara followed him. She wasn't dressed like a boy, but it was a common sight for her or her sisters to walk around the bakery.

She scanned the crowd of people, looking for Ezio. There! He was at one of the tables by a window. He was talking to a short, balding man and…

Victor Medici.

Although not at the top of the social ladder, the second Medici family was powerful. They had connections that people would die for. Their home was one of the largest in Italy. They had their own special "police force" that turned a blind eye to the family's darker deeds. Victor was living proof of that. This boy (at the age of fourteen) had gotten two of his housemaids pregnant, lamed his father's best horse, and set his home on fire. At the age of fifteen, he had nearly killed someone, falsely accused small businesses of stealing money from him, assaulted a police officer, and thrown a bottle at the pope.

At the steady age of twenty, the eldest Medici boy seemed to have calmed down some. He was good looking without a doubt – black, curly locks and gray eyes – but there seemed to be an air of menace around him in Clara's opinion.

_What does Ezio want with him? _

An hour later, Victor Medici and his companion left the bakery with the highest praise for Ezio. Clara had had no doubt about that. Knowing Ezio, he had probably flattered them until they were dripping in with self respect.

Clara scrubbed the kitchen counter absent mindedly. So intent in her work, she didn't see Ezio sneak out the back door until the door was shut. Startled, she looked up. She frowned, went to the door, and opened it just in time to see Ezio slipping out the gate.

Clara clenched her hands into fists as anger bubbled in her stomach. How dare he! Ezio was sneaking off from work! She kicked a stone in frustration. It bounced off the ground once, and then hit the gate with a dull _thump_.

_That stupid, no good, lazy, impertinent…._

Clara glanced over her shoulder. Her brother was in the bakery, getting a tray of bread of rolls from the oven. Although no where to be seen, her father was probably in his study going over paperwork.

After a moment's deliberation, Clara yelled, "Scip, I forgot something at the market!"

"M'kay!" her brother called back.

Clara ran to the gate and opened it.

_Let's see where you're going, Ezio._

_I apologize for not updating last week. I was busy and the time got away from me. To make up for it, I plan to update at least twice more this week!!! Yeah! Someone give me a cookie! … Please?_

_Lol, the pope got a bottle thrown at him. XD_

_Btw, if someone could think up a name (Italian, please) for Clara's other older brother and younger sister, I will dedicate a chapter to you. Try not to make them too complicated (i.e. Allenoughbum)._

_The next chapter should be up on Tuesday or Wednesday._


	5. Curiosity

**_Chapter 5 is up!!! Party time! After you read this chapter that is. XD_**

**_Disclaimer: Are you guys really gonna make me do this? ......... Fine! I do not own Assassin's Creed, Ezio, or Venice. Everything else I do own._**

"What are you doing?"

Clara looked up to see the angry eyes of a stall owner glaring down at her.

She had been following Ezio for a good ten minutes without mishap, when he suddenly turned around and scanned the crowds. Not wanting him to see her, Clara had dove behind the closest object – a fruit stand.

"Well…" Clara cast around for a good excuse, "I tripped…"

"Leave." The stall owner pointed back to the crowded street.

"Okay then." Clara crawled out from behind the stall and cautiously stood back up, praying that Ezio had moved on. She stepped back onto the street and desperately searched for Ezio's dark head.

It was market day in Venice. The streets were lined with enough stalls to fill a palace and the streets were so crowded that one would step on another's foot if their pace was anything faster than a waddle.

_Typical of Ezio to sneak out on __**this**__ day_ Clara thought sourly. Between the screams of hawkers trying to sell their wares and people arguing over prices, Clara could hardly hear herself think.

There! She spotted Ezio duck into a shop not twelve feet away from her.

Clara started to push through the crowd. In response, she got multiple elbows jabbed into her ribs and men started cursing her in foreign languages. By the time Clara squeezed out of the oppressive crowd, every inch of her, from her chest to her waist, was covered in bruises. She delicately placed one hand on her side and winced at the flash of pain brought by the contact. _That's gonna take a while to heal._

Clara glanced up at the sign hanging over the door that Ezio had gone into. _Berelli's Bar. _Clara's mouth fell open. This had to be some kind of joke. Ezio had skipped work to go to some… sleazy drinking hole?! She had almost been pounded to death for this?!

Her hands curled into fists (they had been doing that a lot ever since Ezio had shown up) and she narrowed her eyes. That was the final straw. As soon as Ezio came out of that door, she was going to give him a piece of her mind. She'd drag him home and make her father fire him.

There was a barrel across the street. She wiggled her way through the crowd again, this time not suffering so much damage, and sat down on its lid. She crossed her arms across her chest and started to rhythmically kick to barrel with the back of her foot. It didn't matter to her if Ezio was going to stay in that bar for hours and hours; she'd wait forever if she had to.

It was too bad that she hadn't brought Scipio with her. Although she hated to admit it, Clara was scared to go into a bar alone. Scipio would have offered protection from any drunken sots who tried to physically abuse her or whatnot. And he would have been able to throw Ezio out into the streets.

Suddenly, Clara sat ramrod straight. Someone was coming out of the bar. She leaned forward expectantly, praying that it was Ezio.

It was.

Clara fell off the barrel in surprise.

Ezio hadn't gone into the bar to drink. He had changed into clothing all too familiar to Clara. It was the outfit that he had worn when they first met.

Clara pushed herself up and crouched behind the barrel, peeking her head around to watch. She watched in amazement as Ezio made his way through the crowd like a hot knife cutting through butter. His face was concealed by a white hood, but Clara got the feeling that the cloth didn't impede his vision. For a moment Clara thought that he was walking over to her. She panicked and was about to make a run for it when Ezio abruptly turned down an alleyway.

A breath of relief escaped Clara's lips. He hadn't seen her. Briefly, Clara considered going back home. She could just ask Ezio where he had gone when he returned.

But what if he didn't return? The clothing he had been wearing must mean that he was about to do something important, but what? For all she knew, he could be about to flee the country.

But her family would be expecting her home. There was no way to tell how long Ezio would be out, and Clara knew that her father would start searching the streets before long. It would be best to go home and forget about what she had seen.

She stood up but instead of heading down the road and back home, she turned down the alleyway that Ezio had entered.

_I wonder if curiosity is a vice._

Fifteen minutes later, Clara stopped in another alleyway and rested her hands on her knees as she fought to regain her breath. She had gone into the alleyway back at the market just in time to see Ezio turn a corner. She had hurried after him and was dismayed to see that he had started running. There had been no other choice than to run after him.

How she had managed to keep up with him seemed like a miracle now. Ezio had made so many twists and turns that it hurt Clara's mind just thinking about it. She had actually lost him a few times and was reduced to running in random directions, completely lost, until she would spot the white of his clothing soon after and resume the hunt.

"Scipio was right," Clara gasped between breaths," I am out of shape."

The alley she was standing in now was your typical city alley. There were a few boarded up doors- only two were open – but the bricks were surprisingly new. Stacks of crates weren't as abundant here as they would be if this alley was in the market area. Clara grimaced as she remembered all the crates she had tripped over while chasing Ezio. Her knees now had enough bruises to match her chest.

At the end of the alley was a brick wall – typical. However, this wasn't just a wall. In the exact center of the brickwork was a large window. It was into this window that Ezio had disappeared not thirty seconds ago. He hadn't even hesitated; he had run the entire way to the window and then thrown himself in (thankfully the window was open).

Clara wasn't as dramatic as that.

She slowly walked up to the window, looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching, and then climbed through.

Her foot got caught on the sill and instead of dropping gracefully onto the floor as she had planned, Clara fell face first onto the stone floor.

Clara moaned and slowly sat up, rubbing her head. She glanced around her surroundings and did a double take.

She hadn't really known what to expect to find when she had fallen through the window. Her guess had been that it led to some passageway where criminal masterminds were hiding.

She had defiantly not expected to land in some richly furnished house. The walls were covered in richly decorated tapestries and several tall, exotic plants stood in jars placed randomly in the hallway. The floor was… Clara bent to touch it. Marble! the ceiling had been painted with various scenes – battle fields, heaven's glory, the country side. Music was being played somewhere; Clara could hear it. It sounded like a piano and a flute. This wasn't some commoner's home.

Clara looked around fearfully. _Mary, help me!_

She could get in big trouble for trespassing on a noble's home (this house had to belong to a noble; who else could afford these decorations?). If she was found she could be arrested on the spot. Her dad was going to have a heart attack if he found out…

Ezio was nowhere to be seen.

Clara scanned the hallway frantically but did not spot the familiar white cloth. She gulped and twisted part of her dress in her hands. _Now what?_

It wouldn't be smart if she just started wandering about the mansion; someone might find her, realize she wasn't part of the staff, and turn her in.

Clara's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps. She quickly looked around for a hiding place. A closet was on her right. She yanked the door open and quietly closed the door behind her, scooting back as far as she could in the small space. Her foot stepped into a dustpan, and a broom handle poked her in the back. _Great, I'm in a maid's closet._

The footsteps were growing louder. Clara held her breath and prayed that she wouldn't be found.

Suddenly she could hear voices.

"-just saying that that was one BUSTY girl."

"You're a pig, you know that?"

"Aw, come on, Mary. I'm a guy. We can't help it!"

"You can help it around females, can't you?"

"Well…"

"Whatever! Listen, Lord Medici wants us. We're supposed to…"

The voices and the footsteps slowly faded away as the two servants passed Clara's hiding place and continued down the hall.

After waiting for a few more minutes, Clara hesitantly stepped out of the closet. So, she was in the Medici home. Really, she wasn't as surprised as she should have been. It actually made sense to her… a little. Ezio had shown interest in Victor at the bakery.

But that still didn't explain why Ezio had followed him home.

And speaking of Ezio, where was he?

Now Clara had no idea what to do. There was no way she could sneak around the Medici household; she had stories of the guards' cruelty. Could she leave without Ezio? Despite all the aggravation he had caused her, Clara did feel worried for him. What if he got caught? Would he be able do get out? What if they let him escape, only to follow him when he returned to her father's bakery? Her entire family would be arrested and the bakery closed down. She couldn't let that happen.

A hand suddenly clamped down on her shoulder and a knife was pressed to her throat.

"What do we have hear?" a silky voice whispered close to her ear, "A stranger in the master's home?"

_Papa, forgive me_ Clara thought.

Then she blacked out.

_**Poor Clara... reminds me of my time in New York City.**_

_**I know that I was supposed to post this yesterday, but there was a family emergency and I didn't have the time. I'm sorry everyone! **_

_**Well the next chapter WILL be posted on Saturday. I promise that it will be a long one. **_

_**Thanks to everyone who gave me names. I'll be using them in the next chapter so look for them!**_

_**Btw, in Chapter 2, I mentioned that there was a stage in the bakery. This will be coming into play very soon.**_

_**Review, review, review!!!**_


	6. Infiltration and a Delivery

_**I'm back with the next chapter! I apologize for the long wait. This puppy should (hopefully) make up for it. **_

_**I'd say I'm almost halfway done with this fic. Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to Shapeshifter12 andDestinyIntertwined for the names they gave me. Thanks guys, I really appreciated it. **_

_**I've kept you long enough from this new chapter. Enjoy!**_

Hazel eyes slowly fluttered open to darkness. Clara blinked once. Twice. As her eyes readjusted to her shadowy surroundings, she remembered what had happened before she had fainted.

She had snuck into some rich family's house in search of Ezio.

To hide from two servants she had hidden in a supply closet.

And then...

Clara scrambled up, slightly disoriented at the memory. Her head whipped from side to side as she searched for her assailant. However, her eyes were not yet accustomed to the dark, and she saw only an inky blackness.

Next thing she knew, she was hauled up and a hand was pressed to her mouth. Her arms were pinned behind her back and though she struggled, Clara could not break free.

She stopped struggling; it was pointless to do so when her captor was so much stronger than she was. All she could do was wait for this person to do something.

"Are you ready to behave? I'm going to let go of you and light a candle. Can you stay here?"

Clara nodded, ignoring the voice that told her that her captor's voice was familiar, and started to plot her escape. As soon as she was free, she would run for it-

"I don't believe you, honey." A chuckle followed the words.

Clara screamed in her head. The man – it had to be a man; what woman was this strong – shifted his arms so that Clara was pressed against his torso, hands at her sides, while his arm snaked across her waist. "I wouldn't make a sound if I were you." He warned before cautiously removing his hand from her mouth.

For some unknown reason, Clara listened to him. She heard him lighting a candle, and the room was suddenly dimly illuminated by the small flame.

It was only then that the brunette realized that she was back in the supply closet. She had expected to be in some dungeon or holding room, not here.

"Now," the man said, "what am I to do with you?"

He released her, and, to Clara's dismay, moved to stand in front of the door. She glared at him, unable to see his eyes because of a white hood that hid his face.

………………………………………….

Wait a minute.

Clara gasped, "Ezio?"

The man froze for the briefest of seconds before resuming a calm, collected stance, "What?" he asked, his voice betraying nothing.

Clara put her hands on her hips, "Ezio I know it's you. Take your hood off." She demanded.

He struggled for a minute to find words, "I do not know what you are talking about."

"Are you going to take the hood off or am I gonna have to do it for you?"

"All right, all right!" Ezio removed his hood and glared down at Clara, "Jeez, couldn't you have just played along?"

"We're stuck in the Medici household and you're worried about me 'playing a long'" Clara hissed.

"If you hadn't followed me," Ezio hissed back, "you wouldn't be in this mess!"

"You noticed?"

"How could I not? You made enough noise to wake the dead!"

"I did not!"

"How many crates and barrels did you trip over again?"

"Oh, be quiet!"

Clara crossed her arms, "If you knew I was following you why didn't you say anything?"

Ezio sighed and rubbed his forehead, "I had hoped that you would give up." He gave her an odd look, "I especially didn't expect you to climb through the window after me. You're not like other girls, you know."

Clara felt herself blush, "Are you calling me weird?"

"No, not weird." Ezio thought for a few seconds, "Just… different. I don't think there would be another girl out there that would climb, well you fell," he smiled at that, "through a window in pursuit of a person who drove them insane." He looked at her closely, "You must really care about me."

Clara's blush got redder, "I wasn't worried!" she snapped.

"Really?"

"Okay, maybe I was," Clara said softly so that Ezio barley heard her. Her voice returned to its normal volume, "But I would be concerned about anyone who was doing what you are doing. What are you doing anyway?"

There was a very long silence. At first, Clara thought Ezio hadn't heard her. She repeated her question.

"I'm delivering something." It sounded like a question.

Clara didn't buy it, "What are you delivering?" she questioned.

Another long silence.

"It's a surprise." Ezio finally said.

"So you're just going to 'deliver' something unexpectedly and leave?"

"It'll be unexpected for sure." Ezio laughed nervously.

He met Clara's eyes then looked away, "Just go home." he said, "Forget everything you saw. I'll be back by six."

"Why should I forget this?"

"It's for your own good." Ezio's tone was so serious that for a moment, Clara was worried. What could make Ezio this serious?

"I'll help you back through the window so you don't trip again," Ezio turned away from her, "after that just ask for directions for the bakery."

His words caused annoyance to spark in Clara, "I know how to get back home," she informed him, scowling, "I've lived in this city all my life."

Ezio nodded briefly, "When you get back just tell your father-"

"I'm not going back." Clara interrupted.

Ezio turned around and looked her in the eye, "What?"

"I'm going with you."

Before the words were all out of her mouth, Ezio had grabbed her shoulders and started shaking her. His eyes bore into hers like fire. Clara had never seen Ezio like this.

"You. Cannot. Come. With. Me." he accented each word with a rough shake.

"Ow! Ezio, stop it!" Clara yelped.

The shaking stopped, but Ezio kept a firm grip on her shoulders. "You can't come. It's way too dangerous."

"But-"

Suddenly Ezio pulled her into a loving embrace and started planting light kisses on her neck. Clara was about to push him away with a hard slap when the closet door suddenly opened, filling the tiny space with light.

"What's going on here?" an aged voice asked.

Clara froze and felt her body turn to ice.

Ezio, on the other hand laughed, "Sorry, Fabrizio. It's just me and my girlfriend."

An old man squinted at them. "Is that you, Carlo?"

Ezio nuzzled his face into Clara's neck, "Yes. I'm sorry, I know I should be working but," He grinned at Clara, "she was too distracting."

Clara glared at him and pinched his side.

The old man, Fabrizio continued squinting at them, "Get out of there," he said, his voice cracking with age, "the master doesn't pay you to smooch maids in the closet all day."

"Yes sir." Ezio dragged Clara out of the closet. "We were just heading to the library to clean up."

The old man nodded, "Very well, but if I catch the two of you in the closet again, you're out of here!"

Ezio nodded Clara's side. Together they said, "Yes, sir."

"Come on, the library is this way." And with that, Ezio began pulling Clara down the hallway.

When they were out of earshot, Ezio let out a breath of relief, "That was close. It's a good thing that he found us."

"Who was that?" Clara asked, not realizing that Ezio was holding her hand.

"Fabrizio." Ezio explained, "He's one of the head servants, but he has poor eyesight and can't remember much anymore. He mistook me for some other servant and probably thought you were just some maid."

"Oh. How did he find us?"

"His eyesight is bad, not his hearing. We were yelling rather loudly." Ezio said sheepishly, smiling down at her, "I'm just glad you didn't go berserk when I hugged you."

Clara shrugged, "I was about to slap you senseless."

Ezio looked thoughtful for a second, "I've heard someone say that love leaves you senseless. If that's the case, then that slap wouldn't have done anything to me."

"I wouldn't bet on it if I were you." Clara said teasingly, "I can hit pretty hard."

Ezio's face suddenly turned serious, "All joking aside, this is a very dangerous place for you to be. Normally, I would get you out of here but…" he trailed off.

"You have to make your 'delivery'" Clara guessed.

Ezio nodded grimly. He turned his head and looked her in the eyes for a moment. "As much as I hate to say this," he spoke slowly, hesitantly, "it looks like you'll have to come with me."

Clara nodded, expecting as much.

"But you have to do exactly what I tell you. If we get caught we're dead."

Clara almost laughed. Like Ezio, the man who broke plates, tripped, and set fires, could sneak around a mansion and not get caught. This should be interesting.

"Follow me." and Ezio, with his hand still firmly clutching Clara's, crept down the hall.

Night had fallen.

It had been fifteen minute since Ezio and Clara had left the Medici household. The two of them were heading back to the bakery, the silence between them heavy enough to touch. Clara's thoughts were whirling. She had never been so… well, she didn't even know how she felt right now. Incidents from the Medici kept swirling through her head.

"_Clara!" Ezio hissed a warning._

_ It came to late however, and Clara could only watch as an expensive looking vase began its tumble to the floor. _

_** No!**__ She silently screamed. __**Why did I have to knock into that table?**_

_ She wanted to close her eyes so that she wouldn't see the vase's impact, but before she could, Ezio did a forward roll, catching the vase in his hands and placed it back on the table with one swift motion. _

_ It was completely quiet for a few seconds. Ezio stood up from bended knee and shot Clara a glare, "You have to be more careful."_

"_What was that?!" Clara asked indignantly._

"_What was what?"_

"_That!" Clara pointed an accusing finger at the more than okay vase, "It was falling and was going to break into a million pieces when all of a sudden you do this… roll thing and catch it!"_

_ He gave her a weird look, "Well I wasn't' just gonna watch it fall. It's not like I'm clumsy."_

"_But you, the bakery, tripping, broken cups! What was all that then?" Clara sputtered._

_ He grinned, "That was just to annoy you. Don't worry; I'll pay for the damages."_

She had been so mad at him that she had ignored him for the rest of the "mission". In hindsight, her silence probably did more good for him than she intended. Her silence had probably kept guards from hearing them. Ezio himself had been surprisingly quiet. It had amazed her how he had been able to slip through the house unnoticed. It was like he melted into shadows; without his hand guiding her, Clara would have lost him. She still couldn't believe that she had been able to follow him through the alleys beforehand.

Everything had been going well (at least from what Clara was able to tell) when the pair had finally reached the library.

_ Ezio turned to Clara unexpectedly. "We're here." He whispered._

_ Clara nodded, "Now what?" she asked him. Her hand unconsciously tightened around his. Now that they had reached Ezio's goal she didn't know what to expect._

"_I'm going to go in there and take care of business." Ezio had explained, "I want you to stay out here."_

_ Clara opened her mouth to protest but was cut off when Ezio laid one finger on her lips, "Please?" he whispered. The look in his eyes made her want to melt. She could almost feel the honest care and fear for her safety. She nodded once and slowly released his hand._

_ Trying to be brave for her sake, Ezio forced a smile on his face. "I'll be right back." And he took her hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed it gently, reverently. _

_ And then he had disappeared._

_ Clara didn't know how long she had waited. Time seemed to disappear. Minutes, hours could have passed and she wouldn't have been aware of it. She could only stare at the library door with wide eyes. Her hand tingled where Ezio had kissed it. She rubbed the spot with two fingers. A sliver of doubt ran through her head. She had never had this reaction to his kisses before so why now? He kissed her hand every morning, but she had always waved him off. Why was this time different? _

_ Before she could think of an answer, she heard a muffled moan. _

Looking back, Clara wondered what had compelled her to open the library door. For all she knew Ezio might have been attacked by a guard and knocked unconscious. She could be walking straight into a trap prepared for intruders like Ezio and herself. Logically, it had been a stupid thing to do. But that moan had put fear in her, and fearful for Ezio's life, she had pushed open the double doors without a second thought.

_ The library was one of the most beautiful rooms Clara had ever been in. There were dozens of bookshelves reaching from the floor to the ceiling, completely stuffed with books. Four magnificent windows gave a romantic view of the city. In the center of the room was a large, mahogany desk stacked with loose papers and books. And standing beside the desk was Ezio._

_ Ezio was looking down at something behind the desk, his back towards her. Clara took a step forward, ready to whisper his name when he whirled around. There was a wicked looking knife in his hand and it was aimed at her chest._

_ Clara threw up her hands in front of her face, "Ezio!" _

_ Recognizing her, Ezio placed the knife in its sheath and walked over to her. When he moved away from the desk, Clara saw two feet splayed on the floor. Ezio had been looking at a body._

_ Ezio's hands grabbed her shoulders roughly, "I thought I told you to stay out side!" he hissed, his voice tight with anger. _

"_I – I heard a moan and got worried about you." Clara's eyes were still transfixed on the two feet and she missed the surprised and then thoughtful look in Ezio's eyes._

"_You still shouldn't have come in here," he said, although his voice was no longer angry._

"_What happened?" Clara asked, nodding her head in the direction of the feet._

_ Ezio bit his lip and said nothing. His silence drew Clara's eyes to his face. She frowned and then, at the memory at the knife in Ezio's hand, paled, "You didn't-"_

"_I gave him his delivery," Ezio interrupted, "and he was so surprised that he fell over and hit his head on the edge of the table. He's merely unconscious. We should leave now; a servant will find him, no doubt."_

_ Clara didn't seem as if she believed him so he tried a different approach. "If we don't leave now, we'll probably get caught by guards and thrown in jail." _

_ That got her attention. "So how do plan on getting out of here?" she questioned._

"_Easy." He walked over to one of the windows and opened it. Ivy covered the brickwork and made for an easy escape route. "We'll climb down using this."_

_ Clara came to stand beside him. They were a good three stories up. "Maybe you could manage that," she started to back away from the window, "but I would fall and split my skull on the road."_

_ Ezio rolled his eyes, "Of course I don't expect you to climb down." He held out his hand to her. After hesitating for a second, Clara took it, and felt surprised at the sense of security that swept over her. Ezio smiled as if he could read her thoughts and swung him over his back. "Wrap your legs around my waist and your arms around my neck," he commanded. _

_ Clara felt herself blush as she obeyed. In a matter of seconds she was on his back piggyback style, and Ezio began to climb down the ivy. _

_ Surprisingly enough, Clara wasn't as scared as she thought she would be. From what she could feel of Ezio's body, the man felt pretty muscular. She adjusted one leg and squeezed slightly tighter, feeling no shame in the satisfying feeling of having his muscles move sinuously beneath her..._

Clara slammed into something hard. She backed up and saw that Ezio had stopped walking; it was his back that she had walked into.

Curious at what had stopped him, she peeked around him to see the all too familiar lights of her father's bakery. "We're back!" she exclaimed. The few people who were wandering the street looked up at her outburst, then went back to their business

Ezio nodded and put his hood down. _I wonder what time it is._

Clara stepped out behind him and ran towards her home. Ezio followed her at a much slower pace. They were back and he had no doubt that Piangi would demand an explanation for their absence. And Ezio didn't have an excuse to give him. Sure, he could tell the man the truth… and then proceed to murder him and his entire family. Even though Piangi knew that Ezio was spying on Victor Medici, he wasn't aware of Ezio's intentions.

"_We can't let anyone find out." Leonardo had said, "If someone does, you know what to do."_

Clara had been an extremely close call. Ezio cursed himself for not dragging her back home when he first noticed her following him. But he really hadn't expected her to follow him into the house! Mother Mary! If Leo found out he would have a heart attack.

Ezio stepped inside the bakery and three pairs of eyes turned to look at him. Ezio was fully expecting Piangi to start shouting obscenities at him while waving his fist in the air. He did _not_ expect the man to come up and clap him on his shoulder like he had done something good. Piangi grinned and steered Ezio to the table where Clara and Scipio were sitting. "Well, lad, seems as if you finally broke her down." Piangi said. Scipio gave Ezio a knowing look.

Utterly confused, Ezio looked at Clara. She smiled sweetly at him and then leaned across the table, "Thank you for the wonderful time we had together," she said, a totally fake smile on her face, "we should got out together again sometime soon."

"But not without a proper escort." Piangi interjected.

Clara inclined her head to her father, "Whatever you say." And with that, she stood up, said goodnight, and skipped to the kitchen. Ezio listened as she climbed up the creaky stairs that led to the family's bedrooms. _Kudos to you, Clara. Nice excuse._

"Next time you take my sister out, be sure you tell me." Scipio reached over and lightly punched Ezio's arm.

"Okay." Ezio said. He turned to Piangi and smiled, "You have a lovely daughter."

The man's chest seemed to puff out a little, "Isn't she?"

Ezio nodded, "Well, I'm going to bed." He got up and walked into the kitchen, calling goodnight over his shoulder.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs and grinned.

_ I believe she said she would like to go out with me again._

_**I apologize for not posting in awhile. I've been caught up in a family issue and haven't had time to write this. Rest assured I will never wait this log to post ever again.**_

_**Clara's siblings will be in the next chapter, so everyone keep looking for the names you suggested!**_

_**This is probably the longest chapter I have posted. It's 9 pages long!**_

_**Btw, I've gotten an editor! But for mysterious reasons, she was unable to check this chapter out. I tried my best, but if I missed something, I apologize!**_

_**If you read this chapter then review, please!**_


	7. So You're Positive You Didn't Kill Him?

_** Chapter 7! I told you guys I would update again soon! This chapter doesn't have much action; it's more of a recap (for Leonardo) and a better look into Ezio.**_

_** Dedicated to Nostalgic-Romance for the name she gave me.**_

_** Disclaimer: I forgot to put a disclaimer in the last chapter so now I'm on Ubisoft's Most Wanted List. I do not own Assassin's Creed, Ezio, or Leonardo. Everything else I do own. **_

_** Special thanks to Hedwig the MilleniumOwl for your amazing reviews! Keep 'em coming!**_

"So let me get this straight: you didn't kill him?"

Ezio sighed, "No, Leonardo, for the fifth time I did not kill him."

Leonardo looked offended at the hint of irritation on Ezio's voice, "I'm just checking," he replied, miffed, "It's never a bad thing to be too cautious."

The assassin rolled his eyes and wondered why God had seen fit to give him this man as his partner. Not that Leonardo wasn't a good friend and helper, but it would be nice to only have to say something once. Was he asking too much?

The two men were sitting in the same bar that Ezio had changed his clothes in only three days before. They had arrived in the afternoon so not too many people were around. Despite this, the air still stank heavily of ale, and Ezio grimaced as he saw one drinker empty his stomach on the floor. Disgusting. This place was obviously a middle class bar – no one made any effort to clean up the mess on the floor, and there weren't any girls around. Even if there had been girls Ezio wouldn't have been interested. He was too busy filling in da Vinci about his mission. Besides, there was Clara to think about.

"If you didn't kill him, then what happened?" Leonardo asked, for once asking for details he had not already heard.

They were sitting at a table towards the back of the bar, away from the few drunken sots at the front. Even though there was no way the men could hear him over the noise they themselves were making, Ezio leaned in closer to his friend.

"I got into the house by climbing into the window you told me about," he said in a low voice, barely loud enough for Leo to hear, "but I heard some servants and hid in a broom closet. I was caught by one of the head servants, but he was too old to realize that I wasn't part of the staff."

"Must have been Fabrizio." Leonardo said, folding his hands in front of him. He glanced up at Ezio with a slight look of annoyance in his eyes, "If it had been anyone else, you would have been in a lot of trouble."

Ezio held up one hand in defense, "I know, I know. But I'm still getting used to this whole assassin thing. I learn from my mistakes; it will never happen again. Back to the mission. I convinced the old man that I was a servant and he was kind enough to let me go."

Ezio paused, distracted by a fight that had broken out between two men. The shorter of the two, a fiery redhead with badly shaped teeth, shoved the other's shoulders hard. The man stumbled into one of the tables, knocking over a glass of beer. He cursed in an unfamiliar language, and then threw himself at the red head. The two wrestled on the floor, knocking into chairs and tables and the occasional idiot who was too slow to move out of the way.

Leonardo noticed the brawl shortly after Ezio did. He bit his lip and sank down in his chair, "Maybe we should find somewhere else to talk," he suggested.

For a half second Ezio thought of refusing – this could get interesting – but a glance at his friend's quickly paling face had him say, "All right."

The Italian practically ran out of the tavern, dragging Ezio behind him. The stifling heat stopped them when they got outside, and Leonardo looked at Ezio expectantly, "Where to?" he asked.

"Isn't it your job to find us a new meeting place?" Ezio questioned, "After all, you did make us leave the one we were just at."

"You're the assassin! You decide!"

Ezio thought for a minute, "How about your-"

"No." Leonardo said immediately.

"You didn't even let me finish!"

"I know what your were going to say. You want to go to my place! No way! Not after what happened last time. Nope, not even if St. Mary begged me!"

"You're exaggerating! It wasn't that bad."

Leonardo looked at Ezio incredulously, "You threw a knife that knocked over a lamp and started a small fire."

"Be thankful it wasn't a big fire."

"It destroyed some of my best sketches!"

"Okay, okay, fine!" Ezio couldn't come up with anything else, "Why don't we just talk on the way back to the bakery. I have to get back there anyway. Clara's little sister, Erminia, is coming back from her aunt's house today.

"Please don't go chasing after her too," Leonardo begged.

Ezio looked insulted, "The idea never even crossed my mind. I have Clara. Besides, Erminia is only fifteen."

Just checking. Anyway, let's go," Leonardo started marching down the street. Ezio sighed and put his hand on the artist's thin shoulder. "It's this way, Leo." he pointed in the opposite direction.

"Er, right. I knew that."

The two men began to walk down the street, weaving in and out of people's way. It was actually rather difficult. Ezio had to duck twice to avoid being whacked in the head with a piece of wood carried by construction workers. By the time six minutes had passed, Leonardo was starting to look a little red in the face.

"Please continue about your mission," he said, panting a little.

Ezio shook his head at his friend's unhealthy condition, then launched back into the details, "I got to the library without mishap, and when I entered, Victor was so startled to see me that he tripped over something, banged his head on the edge of the desk, and blacked out."

One of Leonardo's eyebrows rose, "Seriously?" he asked.

"Seriously," Ezio repeated, "I obviously wasn't able to get any information out of him, so I couldn't kill him. We'll have to try again."

A frown was on Leonardo's face, "He's probably paranoid right now. He'll have doubled the guard on his house and has someone tasting his food. Who knows what other precautions he will take? It won't be so easy this time, Ezio."

"I know." Ezio's jaw set. Leonardo had voiced the fears that Ezio had been feeling since two days ago. Things were going to be even more difficult since he botched up the first try. That meant that he would need to be stealthier even though he hadn't been an assassin for very long. He'd definitely have to make sure that Clara didn't end up with him next time.

"I do have one question," Leonardo's voice snapped Ezio out of his thoughts; "I would have thought that you would have waited for the Medici brat to wake up and then question him. But you just left. Why?"

Ezio hesitated. _Because I was worried about a beautiful girl, who by the way followed me throughout the entire mission, waiting, alone and frightened in a dark hallway _didn't seem like the best thing to say if he wanted Leonardo to remain conscious. Ezio could just picture his friend falling to the floor, dead as a doornail.

"He made a loud crash when he fell," Ezio lied. In truth, Ezio had caught the body and gently lowered it to the ground just avoid that. "I – I didn't want to stick around to see if someone heard or not. So I left."

If Leonardo doubted his words, he did a good job of hiding it. "I see," was all he said.

The friends continued on in silence. Only when they were six blocks from the bakery did Leonardo bring up conversation about a new machine he was building. It was supposed to let the user fly in the sky via heat. The inventor babbled on about large bonfires would be necessary to keep to "bird machine" aloft in the sky ("Because heat always rises, Ezio").

Ezio tried to keep up, bit all of the scientific facts were complicated. Besides, he had a still living Victor Medici to worry about. Ezio hadn't had time in the past few days to scout out the new security that the noble had more than likely set up. Normally, Ezio could occupy himself by thinking of different ways to bypass the guards, but without the information he was currently missing, there was nothing he could do.

No, things were not looking good right now. Tales of an assassin who killed with a grudge were starting to spread through the city. He often passed a street corner and heard whispers of "the killer in white." Guards were constantly arresting men (sometimes even women and children) who looked suspicious. Maybe it was time to lay low for a while, just until things calmed down. It might even help to get out of Venice.

"Ezio!"

The voice that called his name was sweetly familiar to the assassin's ears. He looked up to see Clara standing in the door of the bakery, beckoning to him. Ezio took an eager step forward but stopped when he remembered he was with someone. He looked back at Leonardo as if asking for permission. His friend gave him a warm smile, fully aware of Ezio's soft spot for the girl; "Go on," he told him, "I can walk back to my place by myself."

Grateful for Leo's understanding, Ezio jogged the last few meters to the bakery. He stopped in front of Clara and smiled down at her, "Hello, angel," He said with a grand bow.

Clara gave him a small but real smile and leaned against the doorpost, "I see you got your clothes back from the bar," she observed, looking him up and down.

"Yep," Ezio felt a sliver of satisfaction as her eyes rested for a few seconds on his muscular chest.

"That's good," Clara nodded to herself, "I would not be happy if I had to make you new clothes."

"Yes, you would. You would jump on the chance to make them tighter." Ezio teased, gently pulling on one of her curls.

The brunette blushed but, surprisingly, didn't hit him. Instead she said, "Come on, there's a lot of work to do. I'm going to need you to chop more wood for the oven, please."

"Whatever you say," Ezio murmured before following her into the shop.

Ya, the plans to take care of the Medici boy weren't going as well as they should, but right now, Ezio wouldn't trade this time for anything.

_** As a note, Ubisoft gave us no information about Ezio's past except that he was a noble, so I'm making it up for my story. You might have noticed that Ezio said he hasn't been as assassin for very long. Here's the reason why: I seriously doubt that three hundred years worth of Altair's descendants all became assassins. Ezio's grandfather or great-grandfather might have been assassin, but I suspect that Ezio's father wasn't. Because of this, Ezio grew up in a family free of their ancestors' killing reputation. My guess is that Ezio's family was killed by either a more powerful family or the Templar. Ezio somehow survives and swears revenge. He starts training as an assassin to kill the people who murdered his family. But, I'm probably wasy off. It works for the fic though.**_

_** Do me a favor and press that little button that say submit review, would ya?**_


	8. Erminia's Welcome Home Party

_**Another 9 page long chapter. I hope you guys like this chapter 'cause I put a lot of effort into it.**_ _**If you never review any other chapter, please for the love of video games review this chapter! I need serious feedback, people! **_

_**Erminia reminds me of Lydia from **__**Pride and Prejudice**__**…**_

_**This chapter is dedicated to my 9**__**th**__** grade English teacher, Miss Maxwell, for all the support and encouragement she gave me this past school year. I hope I make you proud some day!**_

_**My computer keeps screwing up my paragraphing, so I'll be using lines to indicate time skips/ pov changes from now on.**_

_**IMPORTANT NOTE: Dances back in the older times generally lasted 30 - 45 minutes each at the minimum. So, don't be surprised that Ezio and Clara dance only 5 or 7 dances from eight o'clock to one in the morning.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed, Ezio, Leonardo, or any of the instruments/dances mentioned in this chapter. Everything else, I do own.**_

* * *

Ezio's fingers drummed on the surface of the table he was sitting at. Clara sat next to him, leaning back in her chair. Scipio was in the kitchen, doing who knew what, and Piangi was pacing around the bakery, glancing at the windows every few seconds. Clara's eldest brother, Anton, had recovered from his sickness and was lazily wiping a table with a rag.

Vitellio Bakery had been closed for the day, so the workers were the only people in the bakery. Every square inch of the restaurant had been cleaned – table tops polished, floors swept and scrubbed till they gleamed. Clara had even gone out earlier that morning and picked fresh flowers to put in vases. The scene was actually very calming to look at. The windows had been thrown open, letting in beams of glorious sunlight and a wisp of fresh air.

Everyone was tense, ears strained for the sound of horse hooves clattering on the cobbled street. They were awaiting the arrival of the youngest Vitellio, Erminia.

Ezio scooted his chair closer to Clara's. He was feeling slightly nervous about meeting her sister. "What's your sister like?" he murmured, casting a look at Piangi who was leaning half way out one of the windows.

Clara twirled one lock of hair around her pointer finger, "Well, if you wanted to find her, all you would have to do is listen for the loudest feminine voice in the world."

"Oh," Ezio said. Great. He hadn't even seen the girl yet and he was already starting to dislike her. Assassins such as himself made it a point to avoid attention drawers like that.

Deciding to take a chance, he leaned in even closer to Clara so that their hair mingled. Clara immediately pulled back an inch, "A little too close, Ezio."

"Sorry," he apologized, and leaned his elbows on the table, "Your dad sure made a lot of effort to make this place look spotless," he remarked. His muscles were slightly sore from all the work he had done.

Clara shrugged as if she didn't care, but her voice had a hard edge in it, "He wants everything to be perfect for his adorable little angel."

_Oh._

"Favoritism, eh?" Ezio winced, "I know what that's like. Never any fun."

"You have siblings?" Clara inquired.

"Had," Ezio corrected softly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I wouldn't have asked if I had known."

"It's okay. Not your fault."

It was quiet for a few minutes.

"Your sister," Ezio said suddenly, trying to banish thoughts of his family, "what is she like?"

Clara's eyebrows furrowed, "Loud, obtrusive, spoiled by my father, blind to the needs of others. She can't keep a secret so don't tell her anything private. Also, if you plan on going anywhere with her, I would advise you to take a leash or she'll disappear before you can blink."

"I highly doubt that," Ezio said in a teasing tone.

"You might have to blink twice," Clara conceded, "but she will ditch you… Unless she's on a date." She tried to look at Ezio without him noticing, but of course he saw.

He grinned and took her hand, "You know you're the only one for me, Clara," he said and pressed his lips delicately to her skin. Clara trembled some but didn't remove her hand like she normally did. Ezio looked into her eyes when she failed to take her usual course of action. The look she was giving him made a surge of hope well up in his chest.

She squeezed his hand, "Ezio," she began, unsure of how to say what she was feeling, "do you think that… maybe we could-"

"SHE'S HERE!!" Piangi nearly screamed and pushed himself the rest of the way out of the window. Scipio ran out of the kitchen and expertly weaved among the tables. He reached the door at the same time that Anton did, and together the brothers went outside.

Clara jerked her hand out of Ezio's and held it to her chest. Ezio could see conflict storming in her hazel eyes. He reached out of her with both arms this time, "Clara,"

She stood up abruptly and turned from him, "My sister is here," her voice sounded pained, deflated, "we should go outside." And before Ezio could stop her, she swiftly walked out of the bakery to where the rest of her family was.

Ezio stared after her until the front door closed, hiding her from view. Silently he cursed her sister. Her arrival had interrupted whatever it was Clara had been about to say. Ezio had a sneaking suspicion that it would have had something to do with her feelings for him, but now he would never know. He cursed out loud this time and kicked a chair, knocking it over.

_Damn you, Erminia! Damn you!_

* * *

"Papa!" Erminia squealed from the carriage. The attendant stepped up and opened the door, barely managing to get out of the way as the girl flew past him and into the arms of her father.

Piangi held his daughter tightly and kissed her forehead. Clara thanked the carriage driver while Anton paid him for his services and Scipio unloaded Erminia's two trunks.

"It's so good to be home," Erminia spun out of her father's embrace, long, glossy black hair whirling behind her, as the carriage rattled away, "I have presents for everyone! Come on, they're in my trunk."

"We should go inside, dear," Piangi told his youngest child.

Erminia's Botticelli angel face puckered but quickly brightened, "Did you do something new to the shop?" she squealed. She went up to the door and was about to open it, when it suddenly swung open to reveal Ezio, his hand resting in the knob.

At first Ezio seemed surprised at the girl's presence, but he swiftly recovered, "You must be Erminia," he gave her a small bow, "My name is Ezio Auditore de Firenze."

Erminia giggled and turned to Clara, "This must be the new helper you wrote about in your letter. I must say, he's as handsome as you said."

Clara was acutely aware of the deep blush that turned her cheeks warm and could feel the "handsome" one's eyes on her. Anton snorted a laugh while Scipio grinned at her. Piangi had the classic I-don't-know-how-to-react father look on his face.

Erminia laughed as if she had done nothing wrong and went inside the bakery. Her family followed, Ezio holding the door open until Clara went in. The teenager went to the exact center of the room and did a 360. She frowned, "You didn't do anything new," she pointed out angrily. She crossed her arms, "You said you did something different, daddy."

Piangi put his arms on his daughter's shoulders, "No, sweetie, I merely said you should come inside."

Erminia put on her pouty face but uncrossed her arms, "You made it sound like you had a surprise for me."

"Erminia," Clara interrupted, "didn't you say that you had something for us?"

"That's right," the girl gasped, "Scipio! Bring my trunk over here now. No, not that one, you dolt! The other one."

Scipio dragged the chest over and set it on the ground. He looked at his father, expecting him to reprimand Erminia for calling him a dolt. Piangi remained silent.

Clara's hands balled up into fists at her father's indifference to his other children. Just because she was the spitting image of their deceased mother didn't mean that Erminia deserved any special attention. _Father is going to ruin her._

Erminia flipped open her trunk and removed several parcels from its insides. "This is for Scipio," she handed him a large, leather bound tome. She gave Anton, the family musician, a new lute, and Piangi received a new vest.

"And this is for Clara." Erminia pulled out a dress from the trunk. Clara gasped and her brothers whistled. The dress was a deep blue lined with silver thread. There were satin white ribbons running across the bodice and there was a border of small silver lilies on the waist.

Clara slowly took the dress from her sister's hands and held it against her body. "It's beautiful," she murmured.

It certainly was beautiful, but Ezio thought it would look even better when Clara put it on.

Erminia clapped her ands, "I knew you would like it!"

"Thank you, sister." Clara smiled at her. The rest of her family quickly thanked Erminia for their gifts. Anton and Scipio set theirs on a table and started taking the trunks into the kitchen and up the stairs. Erminia grabbed her sister's hand and pulled her after the two boys. "Come on, Clara," she pleaded when Clara said she should stay down here, "I have so much to tell you about Florence. You would absolutely love it!"

"All right," Clara gave in. Erminia gave a "yay" of happiness and bounced up to her room, towing Clara behind her.

Ezio and Piangi and were the only ones left in the room. The older man sat down on one of the chairs with a heavy sigh. "So what do you think of my youngest daughter, Ezio?" he asked, rubbing his old knee.

There were some very choice words Ezio could have used to describe Erminia. Instead he said, "She really knows how to give good gifts."

Piangi nodded his head, "we'll be having a celebratory dinner tonight. You're invited of course. That Leonardo friend of yours can also come if he wants. We'll be having friends and neighbors over also, so it will be pretty packed; thirty people at the least. Make sure you wear something nice, though."

If not for Clara, Ezio would have made up an excuse not to come, "I'll go invite Leonardo now."

* * *

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Leonardo whimpered.

He and Ezio had just entered the Vitellio bakery. The place was packed with people and there was so much noise that it was hard to hear oneself think. All of the tables had been pushed to one side of the room to make way for the guests. There were dozens of candles placed around the room, their light reflecting off of the crystal and glass cups holding the wine.

"To think, right now I could be sitting at home, happily drawing diagrams of my newest invention and eating a piece of toast with jam," Leonardo lamented.

Ezio was only half paying attention, scanning the crowd for a certain someone, "You came here because you are my friend," he informed the painter, "and because without me you wouldn't have a life."

Leonardo opened his mouth as if to object but then closed. Ezio was right, he didn't have a life.

"Where is she?" Ezio muttered angrily.

"Who?" Leonardo inquired although he had a good guess…

"Clara of course." Ezio stood on his tip toes, but still couldn't spot her.

"Ezio!" Piangi called, worming his way through the crowd. He finally reached the two men and pumped Ezio's arm up and down in a handshake, "I'm so glad you could make it! Things have just gotten started as you can see. We'll be eating in about an hour, so go meet some new people until then." He turned to Leonardo, "As for you, I have some very nice ladies over here…" Piangi led Leonardo away from Ezio, the inventor protesting that he was a klutz around women.

Ezio noticed Scipio nearby, conversing with some of his peers. With a grace that only a noble could have, he made his way across the room and tapped the boy's shoulder, "Excuse me, I was wondering where Clara was."

Scipio took a sip from his wine glass, "She's upstairs," his voice sounded slightly slurred, "Erminia wanted her help with her hair or something."

"Thank you," Ezio let Scipio return to his friends. So Clara was upstairs. What was he supposed to do now? He didn't know anyone here. A waiter offered him a drink but he refused. As an assassin, he never wanted his senses to be diluted by wine or any other drink.

He was about to go looking for Leonardo when Piangi cried, "My daughters!"

Everyone turned to the kitchen entrance where Erminia and Clara were standing. The two girls smiled sweetly at the guests. Erminia stepped forward and said a few words, but Ezio didn't hear her. He only had eyes for Clara.

Beautiful didn't even begin to describe the way she looked. She was wearing the new dress that her sister had bought for her. Ezio had been right, it did look even better on her. Clara's brown curls had been twisted back into a braid that had then been coiled around the back of her head. The dress' color brought out Clara's eyes and contrasted wonderfully with her skin. Ezio wondered why people weren't falling over at her beauty. It was as if God had graced the earth by sending down an angel; an angel named Clara Vitellio.

There was a cheer, caused by Erminia's speech no doubt, and everyone started talking at once. All of the women crowded around the Vitellio females, gushing over their dresses. Even with his assassin skills, Ezio knew he wouldn't be able to get through the throng of women. He would have to wait until the crowd around Clara thinned out. And by the looks of some of the other men in the room, he'd have to be fast.

Piangi stood up on a chair and loudly clapped his hands. It took a few minutes for everyone to stop talking and look at him.

"Everyone," Piangi boomed, "I would like to thank you all for coming tonight. It is a pleasure to know that my youngest daughter is loved by so many people. But of course, this is Italy, and a party is not complete without a feast." He spread his hands to a long wooden table in the back. The table was covered in an assortment of dishes. Ezio saw an entire cooked pig on a platter.

"Let the meal begin!" Piangi shouted. At his words, the crowd surged forward, shoving to get a good place in line. Ezio pressed himself to a wall to avoid getting trampled. He spotted Leonardo being shoved about in the mass of people like a twig in a fast moving current.

Ezio waited a good five minutes before moving to the end of the line. He was handed a plate and patiently waited for his turn to help himself to the food. He spotted Clara just sitting down at a table. There was a flock of girls around her, though not as many as before. Still, there would be no room at the table for himself.

He sighed and studied the design on the plate to distract himself. When it was his turn to get food, he loaded up his plate with a bunch of grapes, a wing a roasted chicken, two dates, a lamb chop, and a few walnuts. He snagged himself a glass of water and looked for a place to sit. Most of the tables were full… There! He spotted Leonardo sitting with three other men. He made his way over and sat down in an empty chair next to Leo.

His friend seemed startled to see him, but quickly recovered and looked relieved. They talked while eating their meal, Leonardo complaining because the waiters hadn't known the fat content of each item of food. Ezio eyed da Vinci's bony frame, "You could use all the fat you can get," he commented. Leonardo made to punch him lightly on the arm, missed, and knocked over Ezio's glass of water. After apologizing a million times and cleaning up the mess with seven napkins, Leonardo inquired after Clara.

"I haven't been able to get to her all night," Ezio growled, "She's been surrounded by that pack of females."

Leonardo looked over at Clara's table, "Maybe you should try to talk to her now," he suggested, "They're all sitting down and you could just ask her to dance with you later."

"That's a good idea. Thanks, Leo!" Ezio said and got up. He was almost at Clara's table when another, good looking man tapped Clara's shoulder. Ezio was close enough to hear the man's words clearly, "Miss, may I have the first dance with you?"

Clara was about to respond when she noticed Ezio. She looked at him for a few second before turning back to the other gentleman, "I'm sorry," she apologized, "but my friend," she gestured to Ezio, "has already asked, and I have accepted."

The man looked crestfallen, "How about the second dance?"

By now Ezio had reached the table and was standing behind Clara's chair, "I have also claimed that one too, sir." And not waiting for the man's reply, he took Clara's hand and led her to the dance floor.

* * *

Seeing Ezio standing only a few feet from her table had seemed like a dream to Clara. She had been so sure that he would not come; angry at her for earlier on. But God had seen fit to give her this one blessing, and her heart soared as he led her to the dance floor.

Anton and a few of his friends were on the stage, playing a passacaglia, too lively for talk. Ezio took one of Clara's hands in his, placing his other on her waist. And then were whirling, flying past other couples, unaware of anyone but themselves. Ezio gazed into Clara's eyes and Clara gazed back, unable to look away. The music called for them to separate and they did, but they soon returned to each other's arms. Clara smiled, enjoying herself for the first time that night. It seemed as if the world around her was fading away; she could only concentrate on Ezio.

They barely noticed when the music slowed and changed to a zopetto. This dance was much slower than the previous, allowing for conversation.

"I didn't think you would come tonight," Clara murmured as they passed an elderly couple just getting into the dance floor.

"You were here," Ezio said as if it should be perfectly obvious, "of course I came."

"I'm glad," Clara tightened her hold on Ezio's hand. "You look very handsome tonight," she commented. Ezio was wearing a red, waist length doublet over a midnight black shirt. His leggings were also black, but had streaks of red in them. The clothing was tight, showing off his muscular frame. Ezio looked down at his attire. These had been the only clothes he had been able to get from his home before it had been burned to the ground all those months ago…

He shook his head slightly and refocused on Clara, "Thank you," he said humbly, "I would compliment you, but I fear mere words wouldn't be able to describe your beauty."

He stepped back, still holding her hand, and she twirled out and then back in. He managed to see the blush on her face though. When she was back in his arms she asked, "Would it be too much to ask you to try?"

"Hmm." Ezio thought for a minute. He drew her even closer to his body and rested his right cheek on the side of her head, his lips next to her ear, "Ravishing," he whispered, "amazing. You look as if you were given an angel's blessing."

Clara blushed and then slowly laid her head on Ezio's shoulder, "I think you're exaggerating," she murmured.

Ezio put his chin on the top of her head, "The angels in heaven are weeping in envy of your beauty."

"I'd have to disagree with that," Clara looked up at him, "I'd say that they're more jealous of the man I'm holding in my arms right now."

Ezio's breath caught in his throat. _Was she suggesting…?_

"Clara," he struggled for the right words, "earlier today you were about to tell me something. What was it?

There was a fire in Clara's eyes that Ezio had never seen before. She wanted to tell him, that was for sure. Ezio braced himself, eagerly waiting for the words that he knew would come from her lips.

And then as soon as it had come, the fire burned out. Clara looked down, "I… I was merely going to suggest that… we spend more time together doing things that… friends do."

At first, Ezio doubted his ears. Those were not the words that he had been expecting. No one got that much passion in their eyes just to say that they wanted to "spend more times as friends".

"Clara…" Ezio began.

"Please, don't," Clara interrupted. She looked back up, and Ezio was surprised to see that there were tears in her eyes, "Just dance," Clara begged him, "let me have this one memory, I beg of you. No more words."

Ezio frowned, but for reasons that he couldn't even fully explain to himself, he kept quiet. They danced a courante, saltarello, and a tordion. They were only separated once when Erminia demanded that Ezio dance with her. "This is _my_ welcome home party, Clara. You can't keep him all to yourself."

But even as they danced with other people, they still watched each other. Ezio barely noticed when Leonardo, who was dancing with some lively raven haired girl, took a wrong step and face planted in a taller woman's breast.

The party was starting to wind down – people were starting to go home, but assassin and baker's daughter met once again and danced another courante.

By the time the dance finished, it was almost one in the morning. Leonardo and a few neighbors were the only guests left. All eyes were watching the couple gracing the dance floor, the musicians not having the heart having the heart to stop playing. When one thirty rolled around, and only Scipio, Leonardo, and Piangi were left, Anton stopped playing the lute. His friends had long since returned to their own homes, but he had continued to play for his sister's sake.

Piangi walked over to Leonardo and offered him a room. The inventor accepted and sat watching Ezio and Clara for a few minutes more before heading off to bed.

Now Ezio and Clara were the only ones left in the room. There was no music, but they continued dancing to a melody that only they could hear. A few candles were still burning, making the scene very romantic.

The bakery could have caught on fire and the two love birds wouldn't have noticed. They were too entranced with each other.

And they danced on into the night.

* * *

_**This was the first party/dance scene I've ever done, so please be nice to me!! _**_

_**Hedwig, you would be proud of the amount of effort I put into this chapter. I spent almost an hour researching different dances, costumes, and foods.**_

_**I must say, I enjoyed writing this chapter. Wonder why Clara is unwilling to tell Ezio her true feelings? Guess you'll just have to wait till the next chapter or two to find out!**_

_**Leonardo is so fun to write. Xp**_

_**REVIEW!!**_


	9. All Roads Lead To Rome

_**I wanted to post this on Friday, but I decided to wait until July 4**__**th**__**. Happy Independence Day, everyone!!! *pulls out sparklers***_

_**For those of you who were worrying, let me say this. I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO INTENTION OF ABANDONING THIS FIC. TO DO SO IS A CRIME AGAINST GOD IN MY MIND. I WON'T EVEN BE WRITING OTHER FICS UNTIL I FINISH THIS ONE. So don't worry.**_

_**Note: If a word is bold in this chapter, then it's sarcasm. And Ezio didn't kill Victor. The idiot honestly tripped and knocked himself out.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed, Ezio, Leonardo, or Rome. Everything else I do own.**_

Six days had passed since Erminia's Welcome Home Party. Ezio had expected that his normal routine in the bakery would continue. He would wake up at six, chop wood for half an hour, start the fire in the oven, help Clara make dough, tease Clara, and have breakfast while still teasing Clara. When the customers would start coming in, Ezio would go in the front and take orders, bring them back to the kitchen, tell Clara she looked beautiful, and go back to the front. If there was a lull in customers, he would go to the backyard and cut some more wood or head over to the market to buy something Clara needed. When the last customer left the bakery, Scipio, Ezio, and Anton would all wipe down the tables and stack the chairs while Clara started to clean the kitchen. Then everyone would gather at a table and have a large supper, conversing with each other and cracking jokes. When supper was over, everyone would help clean the dishes and then there would be two hours of "family time". And finally, bed.

Ezio had become so familiar with this routine that he felt as if he had been working in the bakery all his life. He was comfortable with the pace and felt more at ease here than he had at his old home.

Erminia changed everything.

Ezio still got up at six and was able to enjoy the day up until he and Clara started making the fourth batch of dough. Erminia (or the brat, as Ezio secretly called her) normally got up at this time. She would flounce down the stairs and demand to be fed. If Clara said she was too busy to make her eggs and sausage, Erminia would have a temper tantrum and knock over a tray of rolls. Piangi would come down stairs to see what all the noise was, and the brat would say that Clara threw the rolls on the floor. Clara and Ezio, who was trying very hard to not throw one of his knives in the teenager's throat, explained what really happened. And like the **wonderful** father he was, Piangi would tell Clara to "just make your sister some damned breakfast."

At least when the customers arrived, Erminia went out and spent the day with some of her friends. "I don't see how she has any!" Ezio yelled, slamming a tray the kitchen table, "she's a selfish brat!"

"And her friends are also selfish brats," Clara replied coolly, although her hands were fists.

Erminia would come back around supper and if she didn't like what they were having, would leave the shop in a huff. Clara told Ezio that she probably went to a friend's house to eat. On the occasions that Erminia did stay for dinner, she spent the entire time talking of different fashions and about how upset she was that Catarina had a fur muffler and she didn't. The two hours of family time were no more; Ezio, Clara, Scipio, and Anton all snuck out and went to an inn to escape the youngest Vitellio.

"How do you put up with her every day?" Ezio asked Clara one evening, "she hasn't even been here a week and I already want to strangle her!"

"She goes to a school run by nuns for most of the year," Clara had told him, "so we only have to deal with her during the summer and holidays."

"I pity the nuns," Ezio murmured.

It was evening and as usual, Ezio and the other Vitellio kids had gone to an inn to relax. Ezio hadn't expected to see Leonardo there, and after excusing himself from Clara, made his way over to his friend's table where he then proceeded to tell him about the hell Erminia had turned the bakery into.

Leonardo whistled, "I thought brats like that only existed in books."

"I never thought the Anti-Christ would be female," Ezio grumbled. "I can't stand the way that brat treats her siblings! Clara do this, Anton, I'm bored, play with me, Scipio, finish this job for me," Ezio slammed on fist on the table, "why do they just sit there and take it?"

"Because their father won't lift a finger to help them?" Leonardo suggested.

Ezio frowned. When he had first met Piangi, the man had struck him as a person who loved all of his children equally. He had even acted that way before Erminia arrived. "It's because she looks exactly like our mother," Anton had told Ezio, "She died of a fever when dad was away, and he's never forgiven himself for not being there."

"Anton, it's good to see you!"

Ezio looked over where Anton was sitting to see a tall, dark haired man, no older than twenty, sit next to him.

"Caspian!" Anton cried, "Old friend, I haven't seen you in a year. How are you?"

The two questioned each other about what had taken place in their lives.

Leonardo leaned close to Ezio, "That Caspian guy looks like a player," he murmured.

"Oh please," Ezio rolled his eyes, "you should really stop making judgments so early. It's a horrible thing to do, Leo. That guy is probably in love with some really nice girl and-"

"So, Anton," Caspian said, his voice loud enough so that everyone in the room could hear him, "how's Clara? Is she still looking more beautiful than an angel? I was thinking of taking her out, you know."

"What did the player say?" Ezio growled, turning in his chair to get a better view.

Leonardo smirked, "And I'm the one who needs to stop making judgments."

It was almost ten o'clock. Anton and Scipio were just getting up to leave when Ezio noticed that Clara wasn't in the room. He stood up, knocking over his chair in his panic, "Clara?" he called.

"Relax." It was Scipio who spoke, "She's probably on that bridge just down the block."

Alone?! And at night! Ezio hurried out of the inn and ran down the street. He spotted the bridge in seconds. It was small; five people probably couldn't walk over it at one time. He strained his eyes against the darkness, looking for a familiar shape. There!

He started sprinting, his boot soles slapping against the cobbled road. When he reached the bridge, he skidded to a halt, and paused for a moment to catch his breath.

It was definitely Clara on the bridge (unless it was a man with long, curly hair). The woman was resting her arms on the railing, staring at the canal water below. The moonlight made the scene almost surreal, and Ezio hesitated before approaching. He slowly walked over to Clara and put a hand on her arm. She didn't turn her head to acknowledge his presence. The two just stood there for a few minutes, watching their reflections in the placid water.

Do you remember when we first met?" Clara's sudden question startled Ezio, and it took him a few seconds to respond.

"Yes," he said cautiously.

Clara smiled softly, "I was walking home from buying some fruit for dinner when you just popped out of the canal. I'd never been so surprised in my life."

Ezio chuckled, "Can you believe that it has only been a month since then?"

Clara shook her head, "It seems as if four months have passed."

"You have no idea how much I have enjoyed spending that time with you." Ezio's voice was soft.

Silence.

Ever since the night Ezio and Clara had danced until dawn, Clara had become more reserved. She never let him kiss her hand anymore, ignored his teasing, and wouldn't allow herself to be alone in the same room as him. It frustrated Ezio to the point where he wanted to scream. It was as if they had gone back to square one. Clara refused to talk him about that night.

"_Please, don't," Clara interrupted. She looked back up, and Ezio was surprised to see that there were tears in her eyes, "Just dance," Clara begged him, "let me have this one memory, I beg of you. No more words."_

The words still confused Ezio as much as when Clara had first said them. What had she meant by "let me have this one memory"? Why was she so scared to take their relationship further? No matter how hard he tried, Ezio couldn't come up with a suitable answer. Anton and Scipio were no help either. They were just as mystified by their sister's statement as Ezio was.

"I miss my sister," Clara said unexpectedly.

Ezio looked at her in surprise, "Erminia? Are you serious?!"

"No!" Clara shook her head vehemently, "Melina."

Oh, that's right. Ezio remembered Leonardo saying that Piangi had three daughters. Melina must be the one who was married.

"She is so smart," there was an edge of wistfulness in Clara's voice; "she always knew what to say and do. I'd tell her everything and she never ever told anyone else about my problems. It was always my dream to become half of the woman she is. I wish she were here right now."

Ezio remained silent for a few minutes. Finally he said, "It's getting late. We should head home."

After making sure that Clara's bedroom door was closed, Ezio tiptoed down the hallway to Anton and Scipio's room. He knocked on the wooden door twice. It took a while for Scipio to open the door, and he didn't look to happy about being woken up, "What is it, Ezio?" he grumbled.

Ezio whispered a few words to the younger man, and Scipio's disgruntled look was replaced with thoughtfulness, "That doesn't sound like a bad idea."

"So you'll help me?" Ezio asked.

"Sure," Scipio grinned, "You know, at first I wasn't to sure about you, but now I think you're the perfect guy for my sis."

_Score one for Ezio _the assassin thought dryly.

The two men silently made there way downstairs to Piangi's office. There was light spilling out from under the office door so Ezio and Scipio knew that the older man was still up. They quietly knocked on the door and then went in.

Piangi looked surprised to see them up, "Scipio, Ezio, what it?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Ezio shut the door, "We have a proposition for you."

Clara was not in a good mood. It seemed that everyone in her family was acting extra klutzy today. Anton had burned three pies, Ezio and Scipio had crushed four dozen eggs between them, and Erminia had spilled grape juice down the front of her white dress. So, naturally Clara had been forced to go to the market with her little sister to get more eggs and a new gown.

It had only taken ten minutes to barter for the eggs, but Erminia had kept Clara at the dressmaker's shop for an hour and a half before she had found a gown to her liking. Then the measurements and alterations had taken another thirty minutes.

As each second had ticked by, Clara had felt her self control slip away. Now on the way back home with a chatty Erminia, Clara would have jumped at the chance to stick her head in a barrel.

_Only a few more hours and you'll be leaving for the_ inn she reminded herself. _ You can hold out until then, right?_

"So the lady said, "Do you want a ribbon?" and I said, "No, I want some lace." Erminia's voice was doing nothing to help Clara's mood.

"Oh look, we're back!" Erminia pointed to the bakery and started to skip ahead.

Clara glanced up from her egg basket and then looked back down. _Wait a second_. She did a double take and saw surprised to see a coach with two horses in front of the bakery.

_Who is that for?_

She walked up to the carriage and absently stroked one of the horse's noses. The bakery door opened and out stumbled Scipio, carrying a large trunk.

"What's going on, Scipio?" Clara asked as her brother loaded the trunk in the back of the carriage.

"Don't ask me," Scipio gave her a sly grin, "Ask Ezio."

Confused, Clara went into the bakery and spotted Ezio disappearing into the kitchen. She weaved between the tables, ignoring the callings of the customers. What has he done now?

"Ezio, what's going on?" She demanded as soon as she got into the kitchen.

Before she even knew what was happening, Ezio grabbed her hand and planted a soft kiss on it, "It's really not nice of you to deprive me of this," he chided her.

"Ummm," Clara blinked twice. She started to blush at Ezio's proximity. There was only an inch of space between them. "What's going on?" Her voice was way too high pitched.

Ezio chuckled, "Do you remember the conversation we had last night on the bridge, dear?"

Clara froze. Yes she did remember the conversation, but Ezio hadn't called her dear, or angel, or anything besides her name all week.

"Yes, I remember," she said slowly.

She took a closer look at Ezio. He wasn't dressed in his work uniform. Instead he was wearing the clothes he had put on before going into the Medici household, minus the hood, leather gauntlets, and brown cape.

So engrossed with Ezio's clothing, Clara didn't hear her father come down the stairs until he spoke her name.

"Clara," Clara's head turned to where her father was standing. Piangi had a large smile on his face and handed a small bag to his daughter, "This is for you,"

Clara opened the bag and saw that it was full of money. She gasped and looked up at her father, not sure if she should be thankful or afraid, "What's going on?"

"Ezio told me that you miss Melina," Piangi informed her. Clara cast a quick glance at Ezio. The man was practically beaming at her. "And," Piangi continued, "it just so happens that I received a letter from Melina yesterday. She asked if I would allow you and Scipio to visit her in Rome."

Clara gasped and felt tears well up in her eyes, "I – I'm going to Rome? To see Melina?"

Piangi nodded, "Yes, you are."

"Oh, papa, thank you!" Clara cried and threw herself into her father's arms. Piangi chuckled softly, "Actually, you should be thanking Ezio. He wanted it to be a surprise, so he and Scipio made a mess with those eggs to get you out of the house so we could pack your things in secret. Erminia spilling juice on her dress was completely accidental, though."

Clara let go of her father and turned back to Ezio, "Truly?" she asked him.

Ezio nodded, "Truly," He shyly spread out his arms, offering her a hug.

Clara didn't hesitate. She ran into his arms and hugged him tightly. Ezio hugged her back, and Clara was swept back to the night of the party, remembering how good it had felt to have him hold her. "Thank you," she breathed.

The embrace ended all too soon, Ezio being to first one to pull away. "Now," he said, giving her a guarded look, "I have some news that may or may not make you happy."

Clara cocked her head to one side, "What?"

"I was invited to go with you."

…………………………….

After what seemed like an eternity to Ezio, Clara smiled, "I am glad," she said softly.

"All right then," Scipio entered the room and clasped his hands, "the trunks are all loaded up, so we can leave whenever you want."

"Whenever you want" turned into five minutes later. Ezio got into the carriage first, and then helped Clara up. Piangi insisted that Scipio sit between them, ("I'll move as soon as we get out of his sight," Scipio promised.) and with the farewells of her father, brother, and sister, who hadn't thrown a tantrum when she was told she wasn't going, behind her, Clara set off for Rome.

_**Omg, they're going mobile!!! If you're wondering why I decided to make them go to Rome, it's because I just got this huge picture book of Rome; thus there will be more description.**_

_**My parents have been talking about buying me a new car (I'll be able to get my permit in a month) for my graduation gift, and while I was writing this chapter, I almost typed Toyota Corolla instead of carriage. XD**_

_**Caspian will never make another appearance in this fic, in case you were wondering. Also, here are the ages of Clara's siblings: Melina – 28, Anton – 24, Scipio – 21, and Erminia – 14.**_

_**Quick question: Should I have Leonardo go to Rome also? It will be funnier with his… mishaps *flashback to the last chapter* but I can't decide. What do you guys think?**_

_**Only one thing left to say: REVIEW!!!!!**_


	10. Leonardo

_**I don't think it's necessary for me to put a disclaimer in every chapter. Someone please tell me if I'm wrong. **_

"Where's my compass? Oh Mary, don't tell me I lost it! It was so expensive!"

Leonardo dove to the floor of his workshop, oblivious to the fact that he was holding his "lost" compass in his left hand. He frantically scanned the ground in a fruitless attempt to find the instrument. After a few minutes, he sat back on his heels, "This is terrible," he groaned, "This is the third compass I've lost this month!"

He smacked his left hand against his forehead.

"Ouch!" he shouted, not expecting his hand to be so hard. He examined his hand to see what was wrong.

"Hey," he picked up the piece of metal sitting on his palm, "My compass!" He held his precious tool close to his heart, "I'll never lose you again! You encompass my heart,"

……………….

The inventor quickly glanced around his studio. It was empty. "Thank God no one heard that," he muttered.

The man walked over to one of his several workbenches and gathered an armful of books and maps. Struggling slightly under the weight of some of the tomes, the inventor placed them in a nearby trunk. He frowned. It looked so messy in there… After a moment's hesitation, he reached down and put the books in alphabetical order. _That's better!_

Leonardo placed his hands on his hips and double checked the contents of the trunk. _Am I missing anything? I feel like I'm forgetting something._

_Clothes!_

He rushed to his bedroom, tripping over bench legs, tools, and discarded pieces of wood in his haste. His wardrobe doors were hanging open, the result of rushing to get dressed so as not to miss the waning of a mushroom he had found the other day. Leonardo hurriedly grabbed a few articles of clothing, not taking the time to see if they matched or not, and rushed back to the trunk, tripping over the same obstacles as before.

The trunk was now mostly full. Leonardo smirked as his closed the lid. _ And Ezio says I can't pack by myself. _

The inventor couldn't remember a time when he had been this excited. He normally stayed in one place (he hadn't walked out of Venice in five years), too absorbed in his work to do really any traveling. If he had need of something that wasn't in the city, he would hire someone to go get it for him. Ezio called him a hermit but Leonardo didn't see why. Hermits lived in caves their entire lives. He lived in a studio, thank you very much, and quite often went outside to observe nature.

But Ezio would be proud of him now. Leonardo had been invited to a scientific convention in Florence, and he had decided to go. This was so exciting! He was going to be surrounded by people just like him – scholars, scientists, poets, writers, inventors! The very thought of what lay ahead made him giddy with excitement. He would finally be able to converse with people who actually understood science and math.

It was too bad that Ezio had left for Rome before Leonardo had been able to tell him. Leonardo wasn't too upset though. Ezio was with Clara, so he would be happy. The thought made Leo smile. It made _him_ happy to see Ezio happy. Really, the man deserved some joy after what he had been through. All of the murders, betrayals, and depression; Leonardo was glad that Ezio had found someone who could make him laugh again.

At first, Leonardo had thought that Ezio was simply flirting with the girl, but after the party, he knew it was something much more.

The inventor had seen the way his friend's eyes had lit up when the dark haired beauty had walked into the room. Ezio hadn't been awed merely at her beauty; he had been awed by her _presence_. Looking back, Leo couldn't remember a time when the assassin had looked at anyone that way. There had been several girls before Clara that Ezio had flirted with, but Ezio never constantly talked about them. He had never rushed to Leo's home, ecstatic that she had finally smiled at him; the painter could still remember the delighted look on Ezio's face as he described how beautiful Clara's smile had looked.

In Leonardo's opinion, Ezio was in love with Clara Vitellio. He had no doubt that Ezio would do anything to make her happy. The only question was did she have any feelings for him?

Leonardo didn't know what to think on this matter. Her indifference towards Ezio's flirting suggested not, but her behavior during the dance had made him think hard. The entire time, Leonardo had felt that Clara did in fact have feelings for Ezio. But Ezio had said that nothing had happened between them. The Renaissance genius furrowed his eyebrows and chewed on his fingernail. So maybe Clara did have feelings but was too afraid to admit them? Something was missing; there was something that Clara wasn't telling Ezio. Some secret that was maybe was preventing her from confessing.

Leonardo's eyes wandered to the sundial in the middle of his room. Holy Mary! It was almost 2 o'clock! The carriage that he had hired would be leaving at 2:15!

He hurriedly locked his trunk and dragged it through the room, down the stairs, and into the street. After patting his pockets to make sure that he had his house key, Leonardo took off down the street with his trunk in tow. He had only walked a few feet when he paused, frowning. _Where's my compass?_

"Excuse me, sir."

Leonardo turned and cam face to face with a clean shaven young man.

"Can I help you?" the inventor asked.

"Yes, actually you can," the young man smiled at him. He glanced at Leonardo's trunk, "It seems you are going on a journey?" he inquired.

Leonardo patted his trunk, "I am heading for a convention in Florence," he announced proudly, "I'm just waiting for my transportation to arrive,"

The man's eyes widened, "Sir, surely you don't mean to travel in a carriage?"

"Actually, yes."

"Sir!" the man seemed shocked, "How much did you pay?"

Leonardo told him the price.

The man's eyes bugged out, "That much for a ride in a dingy carriage!" he protested, "Surely you jest."

"No, I'm serious," Leonardo was starting to feel uncomfortable,

The man shook his head. After a moment's pause, he looked back at Leonardo, "Then allow me to help you," he said, his voice turning soft. He edged closer to Leonardo, "There's a special carriage service just a few streets down," he whispered, "You can get a carriage and a driver there for half of what you paid here."

"Truly?"

The man nodded, "If you would like to go there, I could return your carriage ticket for you, so that you could get there faster."

"You would do that for me?" Leonardo asked, amazed that this stranger would do such a thing.

The man nodded, "Anything to help a needy soul,"

Da Vinci quickly fished out his ticket and handed it to the man, "Thank you friend. I won't soon forget your kindness."

The man took the ticket and examined it, "Head south for three blocks until you see several carriages lining the street," he said, not looking up, "tell them that Pip sent you."

Leonardo nodded, smiling, "I'm off then!"

The man watched as the inventor grabbed his trunk and started down the street. He looked back down at the ticket, a mocking smile curling over his lips, "Fool," he laughed.

"I'm Brute. I'll be your carriage driver."

Leonardo had to crane his neck far back to see the man's face. Brute was six feet tall easily and was covered with muscle. His jet black hair was shaved in a style that would later become standard for men in the military. His face was brutal, covered in scars. An eye patch hid his left eye from view. Brute spat on the ground, "Is that all you're taking?" he kicked Leonardo's trunk.

Leo was too scared to tell the man to be careful, so he simply nodded. Brute grunted and then tossed the trunk into the carriage, handling it as if it weighed no more than a feather. The carriage axels groaned in protest as Brute climbed up to the driver's seat. Leonardo swallowed and climbed into the carriage. There were three people already inside: an extremely obese woman, an old man, and a sleeping teenager with long hair but men's clothing (Leonardo couldn't tell if it was a male or a female). The obese woman eyed him as he squeezed onto the seat next to her, "Do you have any food?" she demanded.

Leonardo shook his head, "I'm afraid not, Madame." Please, God, don't let her fall asleep and roll on top of me.

The lady grunted and looked out the window. Leonardo sank down in his seat. Suddenly, one of the carriage doors opened to reveal Brute. He silently handed each of the passengers a knife, placing the last on the teenagers lap.

Oh Christ…

"What are these for?" Leonardo asked timidly.

"Bandits, obviously," Brute said before slamming the door shut. A few seconds later, Leonardo heard the crack of the whip, and the carriage lurched forward at a terrifying pace.

Leonardo looked at the old man, "What did he mean by bandits?"

The old man glared at him, "Why do you think this ride was so cheap? It's because we go where no one else goes – straight through bandit territory. It's the fastest yet most dangerous way to Rome."

"Wait, I'm supposed to be heading for Florence," Leonardo protested, "We have to stop this thing!"

"The last people who complained to Brute never made it to their destination," the old man said nonchalantly.

Leonardo froze, "What?"

"They just disappeared."

Leonardo felt faint. _Mother of God. I'm never traveling again!_

_**It seems that everyone likes Leonardo and wants him to go to Rome. I wrote this chapter for some laughs and to get someone else's viewpoint on Ezio and Clara's relationship.**_

_**Now I have some good, bad, and semi good semi bad news. First, the good news: I wrote the next several chapters a few days ago! Bad news: My laptop's motherboard blew out and deleted all of my memory. Semi good semi bad news: I will continue writing this fic, but it will take a while for me to re write the chapters I lost (because I wan to make sure I don't rush them; you guys don't deserved rushed work), but the computer I have to use now is extremely slow and my parents are going to replace it soon. So I don't know how often I will be able to post new chapters… I'm aiming for at least one a week, but I'll have to see about that.**_

_**Don't stop reviewing though! Seriously, reviews will make me feel better about the issues I'm experiencing right now.**_


	11. A Letter and a Dust Cloud

_**My original plans were to time skip to when our fours characters arrived at Rome. However, I was on the Internet and learned to the distance between Rome and Venice is 9000 miles. It would take 4 – 5 months for Ezio and company to reach the city, and that is WAY too long of a time skip in my opinion. So there will be a few more chapters before everyone arrives in Rome. I'll be alternating the chapters between Ezio's group and Leonardo.**_

_**Great news! I got a new laptop!!! *cheers* My updating schedule will be back to normal very soon. :)**_

_**Oh ya, I had written this one chapter (it was supposed to go up as the filler instead of the Leonardo chapter), but I had a sudden inspiration spurt to write Leo's chapter. I don't know whether or not I should put the other chapter up though (since it was technically written as a filler). What do you guys think? It's nothing really important; just Clara and Ezio each having a flashback to their childhood.**_

_Dear Daughter,_

_You have no idea how much joy I experienced as I read your last letter. I am to be a grandfather! I could not be any happier than I am right now. Indeed, I can barely write down these words for joy. _

_Your invitation has been accepted; Clara and Scipio left in a carriage only a few hours ago. There were so excited by your generosity (especially Clara). I ordered a carriage from my old friend, Demetrio, do they will be well looked after. I must warn you though; there is another traveling with there. It is not one of your siblings or even an old friend; you have most likely never seen this man before in your entire life._

_His name is Ezio Auditore de Firenze. He came to the bakery a short while ago, and I hired him as a helper. You are probably frowning as you read this and wondering why I would send a man that I have not known for long on a journey with my children. Put your fears to rest, Erminia. Ezio is perfectly trustworthy. He came highly recommended and I have seen nothing but goodness in him. He's a very useful sort of man; you will like him, no doubt._

_Since we are on the topic of Ezio, there is something I would like to discuss with you. It has come to my attention via your younger brothers that there is an attraction between him and Clara. Personally, I don't see it; Clara hasn't shown any interest in him. Yes, I have seen Ezio flirting with her (or attempting to), but my friend, Leonardo da Vinci, assures me that Ezio flirts with all women. I actually support the man's endeavors after your sister. It would do her good to get another man after that scoundrel, Vincent. I ask you to keep an eye on them. Though I greatly trust Ezio, I want to make sure that nothing premature happens between them._

_I must go. Erminia is calling for me. I have considered closing the bakery and going to the country until you send back your brother and sister. I could use some relaxation._

_Your loving father,_

_Piangi Vitellio_

Melina Lombardi placed the letter on her bedside table. She absently rubbed her flat stomach (she had only been pregnant for about a month) and pondered her father's words.

She had had no doubt that her father would have agreed to send Clara and Scipio to Rome. The thought of her favorite siblings brought a warm smile to her face. Oh how good it would be to see them again! There was sister gossip to exchange with Clara, and Scipio had written a while back that he was interested in art.

Melina slowly got out of the bed she shared with her husband, being careful not to disturb his sleeping form. She made her way across the room, bare feet padding on the wood floor, and went to the large bay window that opened to a balcony. The window's view was fantastic. Right below was her orchard – fig, apricot, date, lemon, and cherry trees grew in abundance. Beyond the garden, one could look directly at St. Mark's Square. Melina spent a few minutes watching the people of Rome bustle about their busy lives. A lark landed on the balcony's ledge and started to sing a sweet tune.

The oldest Vitellio – now Lombardi – closed her eyes and started to hum a song from her childhood. She felt a giddy rush of pleasure as she realized that in nine months, she would be singing this song to her very own child. Removing her hand from where her child was, Melina took a deep breath.

One thing was bothering her about her father's letter. Ezio Auditore.

Personally, Melina didn't care how trusting Ezio was. It was easy for someone to pretend to be a nice, helpful bakery assistant. It had been only a month, and her father had just let two of his children travel 900 miles with almost a stranger! What had gotten into him?

And what did he mean there was an "attraction" between Ezio and Clara? That did not sound good. How was Clara taking it? It had only been a year since…

"Honey?"

Her husband's voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned back to the bed, "I'm here, Dante."

"Four months?!"

Scipio's mouth was hanging open, his eyes wide. Clara cleared her throat and put her hair behind her ear, "Yes, Scipio. It will take us at least four months to get to Rome,"

Her brother continued staring at her. Clara was starting to feel uncomfortable, Close your mouth," she told him, "You'll swallow a fly."

Scipio immediately shut his mouth.

Clara giggled and looked around.

The coach had stopped so that they could eat lunch in peace. Clara, Scipio and Ezio had spread out a blanket in the shade of an olive tree. Ezio had left thirty minutes ago to buy food from a nearby town. Clara had insisted on going with him, but he had told her to stay and rest.

Cicadas chirped. A warm breeze rustled the tree leaves and green grass. Clara lay on her back and stared up at the cloudless sky. In the distance, one of the coach horses whinnied as the driver lead them off of the road. Clara heard the reigns clink together as the driver, Damiano was his name, slipped them off of the horses' muzzles.

Scipio groaned, "Where's Ezio," he asked, "I'm starving!"

Before Clara could respond, she noticed a cloud of dust on the horizon. She watched curiously as the dust cloud came closer and closer, traveling down the road at an incredible pace. Scipio also noticed it, "Is that Ezio?" he asked hopefully.

"I don't think so," Clara murmured.

By now, the two were able to see that there was a carriage being pulled by horses in the middle of the dust cloud. The carriage looked very old, but that wasn't what Clara's jaw dropped at. The man driving the carriage was like no man she had ever seen before. He looked enormous even sitting down. His hair looked black –

And that was all Clara was able to see. The carriage stormed past her and her brother's picnic spot, spewing up rocks and even more dust. The driver cracked his whip, causing Clara to wince.

As soon as it had happened, it was over. The carriage rounded a bend in the road and disappeared.

"What was that?!" Scipio asked, "The man was driving as if he was possessed."

"It's a good thing that I moved my carriage and horses off the road when I did," Damiano called.

Scipio groaned again and flopped face first onto the blanket. Clara's mouth was still hanging open.

This was what Ezio saw when he came back eight minutes later. He set down his hamper of food, and examined Clara's face.

"What did I miss?" he asked.

_**Yes, that was Leonardo's carriage that passed. XD**_

_**Thanks for being understanding about the lost chapters, guys! I really appreciate it. ^^ Review, please!**_


	12. Inn, Barn, What's the Difference?

_**This is the first thing I have typed on my new laptop!**_

_**I have a very important announcement! It has been brought to my attention that it would actually only take a week for Ezio and company to reach Rome. I apologize for the incorrect information in my last chapter (I need to stop asking my brother for help…) and I thank those who pointed out my error. This chapter is for you guys.**_

_**Disclaimer: ………………………..*walks away***_

* * *

"Goodnight, Clara! Night, Ezio!"

"See you in the morning, Scipio. Sleep tight, Ezio."

"Night Scipio! Sweet dreams, Clara, my angelic princess flower-"

"Ezio."

A sigh. "Sorry. Goodnight."

Ezio closed the door to his room and smiled. _I wonder how many names I could have thought of if she hadn't stopped me._

As he removed his shirt, he walked over to the room's only window. The glass was hidden behind a filmy curtain. Ezio decided that it would be best to fully dress for bed before opening the window. He sat down on the edge of his bed and continued to undress.

He, Scipio, and Clara had been on the road for a week and a half. The journey had been fun; Ezio and Clara had grown closer, telling each other stories of their pasts. They had laughed and joked together, Scipio sitting up with the driver to give them privacy. Not all of Clara's and Ezio's conversations had been lighthearted. They had discussed their views on the mud -filled rat's nest that passed as Italy's social circle. Ezio's view of the warring families was much darker than Clara's. She believed that they should be given a chance to discuss their differences and see if a compromise could be made. Ezio believed that they should just be killed (although he hadn't said this out loud).

They had discovered that they both enjoyed the arts, and several hours had been dedicated to the subjects. Clara had told Ezio that, had she been a boy, she would have liked to become a scholar, spending her days reading and writing. Ezio had laughed good humouredly at the thought of Clara burying her nose in a book for the rest of her life. Then he had told her about Leonardo and his inventions.

Things had gotten a little tense when Clara had inquired about his family. Not wanting her to know the truth, Ezio had skirted around her inquiries, changing the subject several times. He had only told her that he had had two siblings and his father had been a wealthy banker. Although she noticed the past tense in his words, Clara had said nothing, bless her.

But now their journey was almost at an end. Tonight was the last night that they would sleep on the road (in an inn or the road itself). While resting atop a large hill that evening, Ezio had been able to see a few of Rome's taller buildings on the horizon. They would reach the city by noon tomorrow.

Ezio frowned and walked back to the window, dressed for sleeping. He pushed aside the curtain and opened the window. Cool, refreshing air spilled into the room, bringing in the scent of night. Ezio got on his knees and rested his elbows on the windowsill. His gaze wandered around before coming to rest on the full moon.

_It looks so lonely_.

Ezio had learned more about Clara in that carriage than he had in the bakery. He had heard somewhere that a person's home was where they were most likely to open up to you. That hadn't been the case with Clara. She had seemed more relaxed the farther they had gotten from Venice. Maybe it was the freedom from Erminia, or the fresh air, but he had never seen Clara look so happy…

_Except for the time you danced with her._

Ezio winced at the thought. He still hadn't found the courage to bring the topic back up. He had a feeling that if he did the bond he had started to form with the dark haired beauty would shatter, and that was the last thing in the world that he wanted.

It was odd, the feeling that had sparked in his chest. Every minute he spent with Clara, every conversation they had, every memory they shared seemed to be small blessings. And with each passing moment, Ezio felt his feelings for the girl – no, woman – grow. He had never felt this way about anyone before. When he had been a noble, most females had been interested in him because of his wealth and good looks. Clara didn't know that he had been a noble, and his looks didn't seem to faze her that much. She seemed to want more than that in a man. She tried to look on what was on the inside, tried to see what a person was made of.

Ezio both loved and hated this.

He loved it because he wanted her to see the real him. He didn't want to be a power hungry noble who was too blinded by his riches to notice others around him. He didn't want to be a mindless flirt (at least not forever), never able to love only one woman. He wanted people to see him for who he really was; wanted them to look past his bloodline and see that he was his own person.

But if Clara saw what he really was, he would have to kill her.

"_No one must know you are an assassin." Leonardo's voice rang in Ezio's mind, "There are a few exceptions, but it is on a need to know basis. If anyone should discover your secret, you must eliminate them."_

Ezio's room suddenly felt cramped. As easily as a cat, Ezio swung out of the window and started to climb up the wall to the inn's roof. The top of the inn was actually a garden. Although not overly impressive, the rooftop garden was filled with several colorful flowers that Ezio didn't know the names of. The area was empty – no one was up at this hour. Ezio sat beside a large potted fern and held his head in his hands.

"What are the exceptions?" he asked aloud.

If he could tell Clara the truth then he wouldn't have to hide his past from her. He could be completely honest-

_What if she hates you for being an assassin?_

The idea had never occurred to Ezio before. How would Clara react when she learned that he killed people for a living?

Ezio sighed and turned his gaze back to the moon. It would be best not to dwell on such thoughts.

_I wonder how Leonardo is doing._

* * *

"Get in your room."

Coming from anyone else, the words might have seemed like a suggestion, but with Brute, nothing was a suggestion – it was a command.

So as not to get his face smeared on the walls, Leonardo threw himself onto his bale of hay. "Room" had been the wrong word to use. Brute had stopped the carriage at around eight at night and forced the passengers to sleep in a barn. Everyone had gotten their own stall (minus the obese woman who couldn't fit in one) and Brute had passed out some bread, cheese, and water. "Dinner" was what he had called it.

Leonardo's rustlings caused a large amount of dirt and chaff to rise out of the hay, making the inventor sneeze.

"Quiet," Brute growled in the stall next to Leonardo's.

Leonardo plugged his nose with his fingers and waited for the allergens to settle. The old man snored, and Leonardo waited for Brute to do something about it.

…Nothing.

The inventor huffed and pounded on his bedding. The action caused another small cloud of allergens to stir up, and once again the inventor let out a loud sneeze.

Next thing Leonardo knew, he was being lifted up and dragged out of his stall. Brute, with a firm grip on the man's collar, ushered him out of the barn and into the night. He let go, and Leonardo, who was thrown off balance, tumbled to the ground.

Leonardo pushed himself up, "What was that for?"

"You were disrupting everyone."

"But the old man was snoring and you didn't do anything about it!"

"He can't help it. He does it in his sleep."

"Well I can't help but sneeze!"

"Then stop moving."

Leonardo threw his arms into the air, "What kind of transportation service is this?" he cried, "You give us knives, make us sleep in barns, and when we passed that guard post, you told them that I was your retarded little brother! I am not retarded, sir! I happen to be a scientist. . ." the inventor's voice died away when he saw the fearsome looking glare on Brute's face.

"You should be thanking me," Brute's base voice was quiet with barely contained anger, "that guard post had been overrun by bandits. The real guards were probably dead. And it's a common fact the "retarded" people rarely have anything of value on their person. As for sleeping in a barn, heh, most inns around here are ransacked on a daily basis."

Leonardo's jaw had dropped after the man's first sentence, "The guards had been . . . killed?"

Brute nodded, "If you had looked closely, you would have seen fresh blood on the ground."

A wave of nausea rolled into Leonardo's gut, "But what if those bandits had attacked us?"

The moonlight made the grin on Brute's face seem more menacing than it really was. He pulled a wicked looking knife out from his belt, "I could have taken them. I do have special training."

_Wait a second._ Leonardo squinted, trying to get a better view of the man's knife. There was some type of symbol right above the leather grip. . .

Leonardo gasped. He knew what that symbol was. He had seen it often; had introduced Ezio to it. It was the sign of. . .

"You're part of the Brotherhood?!"

* * *

_**Cliffhanger!**_

_**Okay, first off, I would like to apologize for not updating in a while. Some unexpected events suddenly popped up and I had to deal with them. **_

_**Secondly: Has anyone else gotten this month's issue of Game Informer? Omg, there was an article about AC 2!! It was announced that in this new game you will be able to pay hookers to distract guards! :DDDD Whooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**_

_**Special thanks to Phonewriter93 for giving me the idea to have another member of the Brotherhood appear! A thousand thanks!**_


	13. Scourge

_**I really have nothing to say except that I have been recovering from a jellyfish sting to the face, and school has started. **_

_**Disclaimer: Do you seriously think I own Assassin's Creed? Come on, people.**_

_Three days ago._

Victor Medici anxiously paced the length of his library. He chewed his lip and wrung his hands together, trying to alleviate some of his nervousness. The six guards who now followed him wherever he went were starting to feel edgy because of the man's movements. Really, was it so hard for the man to stay still for a minute?

Ever since that mysterious "somebody" had broken into the Medici household a few weeks back, Victor had been paranoid. He was completely convinced that it had been as assassin sent to kill him. Security had been tightened so much that some of the guards were grumbling about assassinating Victor themselves just to get some rest.

There was now a sign in list at all of the doors. Everyone who came in had to write down their name and a password that changed every day. Anyone who did not comply was either fired, thrown out, or killed.

Victor had even hired mercenaries to protect him on the rare occasion that he went outside. He had the hired hands act incognito while his usual guard escort surrounded him on all sides. He hadn't even brought home one of the "entertainment" ladies because he was afraid that they might kill him during their "session". All of his food was tasted; no one had died yet.

All in all, the guards thought that their employer was turning into a psycho maniac. When that person had broken in, he hadn't done anything. Although Victor claimed that the assassin had bashed his head into the desk, the guards had a feeling that he had probably just tripped. Besides, Victor Medici couldn't be classified as a top assassination target. Yes, he had money, power, and was greedy, but he hadn't done anything drastic (the guards would know; they were the ones who had to clean up after him) that made him a worthy target.

Yet here he was, pacing the length of his private heavily protected library like a madman.

One of the guards sighed and shifted from one foot to another. He had been on duty for six hours straight and hadn't been home on three days. "Do you know what's going on?" he murmured to his fellow soldier on the right.

The other soldier paused to make sure Victor wasn't looking in their direction. "He apparently hired another person and is going to meet them here," he whispered.

The first guard rolled his eyes, "At this rate, he's going to waste all of his fortune paying off these mercenaries. Why does he want another one? Is he ever going to be satisfied?"

"I've heard that this one is supposed to be different."

"Yeah? How so? Does he come from a long line of noble knights?"

". . . Not quite. I hear he was trained by an elite group called the Brotherhood."

"The what?"

"The Brotherhood. They train people to be the world's greatest assassins-"

"Ironic, huh?"

"-But, it's said that he went insane with bloodlust and killed his teacher and his fellow students."

"Oh please. What, do you think you can frighten me with such tales as that? I'm not a child."

"I didn't make it up. He's insane!"

Suddenly, there was a soft knock at the door. The two guards froze, their eyes drawn to the door like magnets. Victor Medici whirled around, his eyes as large as dinner plates, and swallowed. "Who-"

There was a muffled thump from the other side of the door. A low moan soon followed. The two guards only had time to exchange confused looks before the library doors were thrown open with such force that they banged against the walls like thunder.

A man stalked in from the hallway. Behind him, the guards could see the form of the butler slumped on the floor. There was a dark puddle forming around his torso. One of the guards on the other side of the room rushed at the intruder, sword drawn. He yelled in fury and raised the blade high over his head–

-And then stopped, stunned. His fingers loosened, and the sword fell to the ground. The guard made a choking sound and clawed at his clothing. Blood poured out of his opened mouth. He fell to his knees, swayed like a drunk, and then fell to the floor. His hand scrabbled at nothing, fingernails scratching into the cold marble. He entire body jerked once then stayed still.

The intruder calmly walked up to the guard's corpse and deftly plucked a dagger out of his stomach. That done, he glared up at Victor with burning eyes.

Eye, actually. The man was dressed like a commoner – a tight, dark blue tunic and brown leggings – but his entire face was covered in leper wrappings. Only one brown, the-filled eye showed. Moving as fast as lightning, the man sheathed the knife in his belt, "Well?"

"Don't attack him," Victor said, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. There was no need for the command. The rest of the guards were in a state of shock from watching their comrade die.

The bandaged man crossed his arms over his chest, "I believe you were expecting me." His voice was cold, low. He was tall – he would tower over Victor if he was standing next to him – and well muscled. A collection of sheaths holding both swords and knives hung from his leather belt.

Victor nodded. "Y – Yes. I would like to hire you for a job."

"What is it?" The man glanced around the room, eyeing up the guards. They cringed under the heat from his eye. This man was dangerous. And the way he had just murdered the butler in the hall. . .

"I was almost assassinated a few weeks ago," Victor said, his voice sounding a little stronger now that the man wasn't looking directly at him, "The assassin escaped, but through means of bribery and quick wit, my men were able to learn his name."

"Ezio Auditore de Firenze," the mercenary said.

Victor started in surprise, "How do you know this?"

"I have my sources, little noble," the man said condescendingly as if he were talking to a simpleton, "and I am able to get this information with my own methods." There was a flash of metal, and he was suddenly holding a large, curved blade in his hand.

The guards instinctively grabbed their sword handles. Medici noticed this and waved for them to stop. "Let us not upset our guest," he chuckled nervously.

The man ran his hand up the length of the blade, "Wise decision, Victor."

The noble took a step back, his face paler than usual. "As . . . I have stated, I was almost assassinated. I want you to find the man – this Ezio Auditore – and bring me back his head."

The mercenary simply stared at him. Victor would have gladly given up everything he owned just to see the look on the man's face. The wrappings were intimidating; they made his one eye seem even larger than it was.

"Do you not think you can do it?" he asked, trying to put on a tough front. He wanted to redeem himself for acting like a coward. He was a Medici! Medicis weren't cowards! They were-

The man's right arm twitched, and a scream filled the room. One of the guards fell to the ground, a knife in his ribs. A pool of blood quickly formed a gory halo around his body.

"Do not question my abilities," the man warned. "This Ezio pup that was sent to kill you; I will find him. I know everything about him. He is nothing. A new recruit. He hasn't been training as an assassin for long. I will hunt him down, slit his throat, and bring you his body."

Victor was too terrified to respond. He managed a small nod.

"As for the matter of my payment," the mercenary continued in a flat voice.

Victor's vocal chords started to work again, "I am prepared to offer you 5,000-"

"20, 000," The man said flatly.

"What?!"

"If this boy is smart, then he will have left the city long ago. There's no telling where he will be. I will have to . . . ask around and glean what information I can. This will take a while, especially when you account for false leads and unreliable blabbers.

"Also, I know that he has good connections. Almost as good as mine. There is no doubt that he will have covered his tracks well. I'm the only person in Italy who can find him. It's 20,000 or you can wait for him to come back and kill you in your sleep. Your choice."

". . . "

"I am not a patient man when it comes to people," the man said, his voice turning into a soft snarl, "if you do not give me your answer, I will simply kill you and your guards and steal whatever pleases me. Now, do we have an agreement?"

"20,000 it is."

"I thought you would see it my way."

And with that, Valken Krieg, Scourge of the Brotherhood, turned and left the library, seeming to melt into the darkness of the hallway like a demon in the night.

_**Yes, I know that Valken Krieg isn't an Italian name. He's German, okay?**_


	14. How is that a House!

"This is the fifteenth century, the era of the Italian Renaissance, where learning has been revived, and man has reached even greater goals than ever before. The saying 'all roads lead to Rome' could never be truer than now. Rome is where the knowledge is. Rome is where one will find power. Rome is where-"

"Scipio, I know you're excited but you need to calm down," Ezio interrupted.

The black haired man looked crestfallen, "But we're in Rome." He protested, "You can't expect me to just sit back and say nothing."

"You've been talking nonstop ever since we first saw the city walls," Ezio pointed out, "and that was an hour ago."

Scipio reddened slightly. "Well it's Rome." he muttered.

"Tsk," Clara shook her head. "What would father say if he could see how you've forgotten your manners," she scolded playfully.

Her older brother smiled at her. "Since when do you reprimand me, little sister?" He slyly looked at Ezio out of the corner of his eye. "I believe I'm the one who is here to make sure you don't do anything . . . questionable that might jeopardize your honor."

"Scipio you're a-"

"We have arrived!" the coachman shouted, interrupting whatever Clara had planned to say. The carriage came to a gentle halt.

Ezio was the first one out of the carriage. His eyes widened when he saw the "house". Without looking back, he helped Clara to the ground.

"You never told me your sister was rich," he muttered into her ear.

Clara gave him an amused look. "I didn't think it mattered," she said.

"It really doesn't'," Ezio kept looking at the house, "this is just a bit unexpected… I don't think the clothes I brought will be nice enough."

"Since when do you care about how you look?" Clara teased.

"Only around a beautiful girl," Ezio replied evenly.

Clara blushed and looked down at the ground.

"If you two are done flirting, we should knock on the door like people with manners do," Scipio said as he breezed past them.

Ezio himself blushed. The three of them ascended a small staircase and stood in front of the massive, wooden double doors of the mansion.

And a mansion it was. It was a home fitting for a wealthy banker of Dante Baldisseri's standing. Imagine of you would an empty lot. Now, picture a building about the width and half the height of the average public school gymnasium, to which had been added a west and an east wing, to which had been added an entire second floor. Each wing extends the length of four school buses and is dotted with glass windows. If you can see this, then you have a good idea of how the Baldisseri mansion looked.

Ezio had scarcely knocked twice on the impressive double doors when they were opened to reveal a stern faced butler.

"Welcome, sirs and madam," he said with a slight French accent. Ezio started. The man looked as if he could be the twin of the servant (Fabrizio?) back at the Medici household.

Scipio, Clara, and Ezio returned the greeting, and the butler bowed and ushered them inside. Two other male servants were standing by. They were obviously twins – they had the same mischievous faces and build- except one's hair was coal black while the other's was a light brown. The butler waved them over.

"These two will show you to your rooms while the other servants unload you luggage," he explained stiffly.

Ezio barely heard him. He was too busy taking in his surroundings. The foyer was magnificent. Elaborate tapestries hung on the walls. The floor was made of a dark mahogany and was so shiny that Ezio could see his reflection in the wood. The dominant feature of the room was a beautiful grand staircase that branched off to the separate wings.

"Sir?"

"Yes?" Ezio blinked, startled by the voice of the servant.

"Do you wish for me to show you your room, sir?" the boy asked, a mildly concerned look on his face.

The Vitellios and the other servant (the one with the black hair) were waiting on the landing where the staircase divided.

"Er . . . yes, please," Ezio hastily said. He and the servant quickly caught up to the others.

The twins led the trio up the left staircase.

"You'll be staying in the west wing," the brown-haired one said.

"Each of you will have your own room," his twin said.

"Which have wonderful views of the atrium."

"The master and his wife live in the east wing."

"Where is my sister," Clara interrupted.

"Lady Lombardi thought that you might want to freshen up after your long journey," the brunette servant said, turning down a corridor.

"So we take you to the parlor in half an hour," his brother finished.

Clara seemed disappointed. "I see."

The twins continued chatting down the corridor, up a short flight of stairs, and past dozens of doors. They finally stopped in a small hallway. There were only four doors; the opposite wall was a collection of large windows that looked out onto the street.

"This is Miss Vitellio's room," the twins said, opening the door.

"I should be ready soon," Clara told Ezio and her brother. Ezio detected a flash of hurt in her eyes. She strode into her room, and the twins bowed before closing the door behind her.

Scipio's room was next, and Ezio's room was the third door down. He went inside and shut the door before the twins could ask if he needed anything. Ezio's knees felt weak. Memories of his family were plaguing him; this house seemed so much like his own. He half expected to hear his sister singing, or to see his younger brother sleeping on a couch.

Unable to keep himself up, Ezio slid to the floor and let his memories tear him apart.


	15. The Inlaws

**_As promised, here is the next chapter! I was planning on posting this at night, but since it's Black Friday Iposted it early. :) Shop 'till you drop, girls!!_**

Ezio's room was as classy as the rest of the mansion. It was almost as large as the kitchen back at the bakery. There was a canopied, four-poster bed piled with fluffy pillows and thick blankets that were soft to the touch. A fireplace; cold, unused because of the season; with an elaborate marble mantel was close to the bed. Stretched on the floor was a bear pelt, head included. There was a plethora of chairs and stools scattered around the room. A desk and a bureau stood side by side, both as intricately wrought as the other. As promised, there was a balcony that did indeed have a wonderful view of the atrium.

All these details went unnoticed by Ezio. He clutched his head between his hands and moaned. Tears blurred his vision, everything seemed to run together.

"_Ezio, I want those feathers! Will you get them for me?"_

Petruccio.

"_Let's see if baby brother has learned how to fight properly."_

Frederico.

"_Duccio . . . he broke my heart!"_

Claudia.

"_Ezio, I have an errand to run. Come with me."_

Mother.

"_You remind me of myself when I was your age."_

Father.

The tears fell relentlessly, and Ezio cursed himself for being so weak. These emotions shouldn't be there – at least not until his vendetta was fulfilled. He should be feeling only hate towards Italy's upper class. Yes, he was only here because of an unquenchable thirst for the blood of his enemies.

He didn't know how long he sat there. A knock on the door pulled him away from his thoughts.

"Ezio?" a soft voice called.

Clara. Ezio blinked. Not dead, alive.

"Ezio, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Ezio replied, scrambling to his feet. Almost unconsciously he pushed all thoughts of his family to the back of his mind. Now was not the time to dwell on them; he had to seem normal for Clara.

He fumbled slightly with the door handle and opened it with such force that Clara started back. He must have been wearing his heart on his sleeve, for Clara's surprised look was quickly replaced with concern. "What's wrong?"

Never before had Ezio been asked this question by anyone except a family member or Leonardo. In short, he didn't know how to respond.

He purposely turned his face from her. "Just tired," he said gruffly.

Next thing he knew, Clara had gently grasped his chin and turned his face back to hers. Her hazel searched his, probing for the source of his pain.

"Don't lie to me, Ezio," she whispered, real concern in her voice, "talk to me. Tell me what is upsetting you."

Real love had rarely run its course through Ezio. Most girls he had had a relationship with had been nothing more than vessels for sex. They hadn't really loved him, and he most certainly hadn't loved them. Yet here was this girl-no, woman- whom he had only known for two months and was genuinely concerned about him. More tears pooled into Ezio's eyes. It had been so long since someone had cared…

Clara saw the water in his eyes. "Ezio," she breathed. Not knowing what else to do, she grasped the man's arms tightly. Her voice turned pleading, "Ezio! What is it?"

The assassin couldn't speak. A lump had wedged itself in his throat. His mind was barely down on Earth; he was having an epiphany from God.

This woman in front of him would, in the average man's eyes, be deemed pretty, but to Ezio, she was angelically beautiful. He wanted to run his hand through her dark locks and bring them close to his face so to breath in their sweet scent. Her face was pure and innocent; the face of a young maiden.

And there was so much more inside of her. Her compassion, her goodness, and her thirst for knowledge- all this made up a most fascinating woman that he…...

Loved.

Who can describe the emotions that ran through Ezio as he realized this? Can the passionate love-speech of Juliet to her Romeo even compare?

_I love Clara._

These three simple words that contained a well of truth.

By now, Clara was almost in tears herself. Ezio was staring at her like a madman, eyes stretched wide and jaw hanging open. With her hands on his arms she could feel him trembling. "Ezio!" she cried, "please!"

It was as if Ezio's light switch had been turned on again. He saw the terrified expression on the poor woman's face, and collected himself. He smiled at her and grasped her elbows, "Clara!"

Frightened, Clara made to move away, but Ezio held her. "It's all right," he soothed her, "I was just having a moment of divine inspiration."

Although her eyes were still wary, Clara relaxed slightly in his hold. "'Divine inspiration'?" she echoed. "About what?"

Now was the moment. With love coursing through his veins, Ezio opened his mouth to empty out the waterfall of sweet love-words.

"Think you two could get any closer?" Scipio asked from down the hallway.

They were rather close. In the excitement, the space between their bodies had diminished until they were pressed up against each other. If Ezio had jutted his lips six inches forward, they would have imprinted a kiss upon Clara's forehead.

They let go of each other and stepped back. Scipio sauntered up to them and casually draped an arm around Ezio's shoulders. "Well," the man drawled, "looks like I'll have to watch you two like a hawk."

Really, there was nothing the couple could say. Clara was still worried about the Auditore but was also slightly embarrassed for being caught in such an embrace. Ezio was fuming with anger, love, and impatience in turns. Had the twins not arrived right then, who knows what would have happened.

"Sirs and madam," they said, bowing, "we are here to escort you to the parlor."

* * *

Back at the Vitellio Bakery, Piangi was helping his remaining children serve the lunch rush. The bakery was as crowded as usual, and Piangi was finding it difficult to maneuver his large self though the maze of tables and chairs. The day was hot; the open windows helped cool things down, but there were still beads of perspiration on the baker's forehead.

"I need another glass of wine," a customer called.

"Coming up!" Piangi shouted, his voice almost lost in the tumultuous sea of conversations and debates around him.

"You call this a loaf of bread? I want my money back!" a widow huffed.

"Papa, I want another sweet roll," a small girl, no more than seven and as dressed up as a princess's doll, pleaded.

Her father, a rich merchant, indulged her, "Of course, my angel. Sir! A sweet bun over here!"

"In a minute!" Piangi called, almost spilling a plate of rolls into the lap of a painter.

"I have yet to be served."

This was the final straw. Thoroughly frustrated, Piangi whirled around (if his slow turn could be called that) to deliver a heated speech about patience. He stopped cold when he saw the speaker.

There was something about this stranger (for Piangi had most definitely not seen him before) that struck a chord of fear in the heavy set baker.

Perhaps it was the belt of knives that hung from the man's waist, sharpened metal gleaming maliciously in the light. His hands were resting lightly on the table, and Piangi could see that they were covered in scars. Maybe it was the white hood that concealed most of the man's head, leaving only a cold smile to be seen.

"I-I apologize," Piangi stammered, taking an involuntary step back.

The stranger made a show of looking around. Piangi wondered how he could see anything with the white material covering his eyes.

"You seem busy today," he observed, his voice soft yet threatening at the same time.

Repressing a shudder, Piangi replied, "We are . . . very busy. Two of my children and our newest worker recently went on a journey.

The cloth-covered head turned back to him. "Ah, I can remember taking such travels when I was younger," the man said. "Where are they going?"

"Rome," Piangi instantly regretted speaking, "my children – Scipio and Clara- went to see their elder sister, and the worker was invited to go as well."

"And what is this worker's name?" the stranger asked coolly.

"Ezio."

"Ezio," the man said the name like a hungry wolf that has just spotted a lame sheep, "yes, that's him."

"You know him?" Piangi questioned, trying to distract the man from the travel details he had just blurted out.

The smile turned evil. "I have been wanting to visit him for quite some time."

A silence ensued between the two men.

"Should I send him a letter?" Piangi asked timidly. "I could tell him that you'll be coming-"

"No," the man interrupted, shaking his head, "I want it to be a surprise." The man fell silent for a short while then resumed, "But when he returns you may give him this."

One greaved hand flashed (Piangi barely even saw it), and suddenly there was a dagger plunged into the table top. Piangi froze, along with a few other customers who were close by. The man rose as if nothing had happened, tossed a coin onto the table, and said, "I'll have to come back when this place is less crowded. Good day, sir."

Without another word, Valken strode out of the bakery, already planning on how he would get to Rome. As the door swung shut behind him, Piangi hurried to his office. No matter what the man had said, he fully intended on writing a very alarming letter to Ezio.

* * *

"You've grown so much!"

"You're just as beautiful as I remember!"

"Did you do something different with your hair?"

"Your face is glowing, I swear!"

"Oh, you must come shopping with me! I want to show you the city and all of the best shops. It will be like when we were younger and I would dress you up!"

Ezio watched this exchange in amusement.

The twins had led them through a maze of hallways and staircases until they had arrived at the parlor. As soon as the door had been opened, even before Ezio had registered this fact, Clara had rushed past four males and thrown herself into the open arms of a beautiful older woman. If Ezio had blinked, he would have missed it.

Clara and the other woman had hugged, before the older had pulled away and held out her arms to Scipio. "Brother," she had said, her voice as clear and pure as a bell.

Scipio had embraced his older sister and said, "Ezio, may I introduce to the eldest Vitellio brat, Melina Lombardi."

Ezio had bowed, "A pleasure. I'm Ezio Auditore de Firenze."

Melina looked him up, a thoughtful expression in her eyes. "My father wrote about you in his letters," she said curiously. "I've been eager to meet the man he spoke so highly of."

Ezio bowed again. "I believe he gives me more credit than I deserve.

"We shall see," Melina had said coolly. She gestured to one of several plush couches, "Please, sit."

Scipio had immediately placed his bottom on the nearest thing- which happened to be a footstool- while Clara and Melina sat on a couch; Ezio chose a leather chair.

"I apologize for the absence of my husband," Melina had said, smiling at them (her smile seemed to lose some of its warmth when it came to Ezio), "but there was an emergency at the bank, and he had to see to it immediately."

"How is Dante?" Scipio asked, crossing his legs in a way that reminded Ezio of Leonardo for some odd reason. "Is he looking forward to being a daddy?"

This, of course, prompted a barrage of questions from Clara (from when was the baby due to second choices for a middle name). After this, Melina had asked them about their journey. Ezio, Clara, and Scipio all took turns telling of their little "adventures", and Melina laughed when Scipio told her about the time when he had almost been left behind at an inn for oversleeping.

"You haven't changed at all, little brother," Lady Lombardi teased.

During this entire conversation, Ezio found it hard for him to keep his eyes off of Clara. He noticed how she always looked at her sister, how her eyes seemed brighter, and her cheeks rosier. It was obvious that she adored her sister more than anyone else in the world. She seemed happier, and that made Ezio happy. Despite Scipio's earlier interruption, Ezio still felt his epiphany running through his veins. He loved Clara Vitellio more than he had loved any other girl in his life (and he hadn't even had sex with her!).

It was obvious that Clara was desperate for a private conversation with her sister. Ezio struck up a conversation with Scipio to give her space.

And that's when the squealing had started.

The sisters had scooted closer together, heads bent forward and almost touching. Their voices dropped to excited whispers, and Ezio couldn't help but chuckle.

"How much do you know about the papal authority?" Scipio asked.

"Not much," Ezio was answered, keeping an eye on Clara out of the corner of his eye. "You can ask me about the noble families, the guilds, the best hiding places in Florence, how to woo a girl, but not about the papal authority."

"Well, let me shed some light on the matter."

The door to the parlor opened again, admitting the old servant with the French accent. "Announcing Lord Lombardi," said the foreign butler.

The title Lord definitely fit Dante Lombardi. The banker strode into the room in the same manner that a king would cross the threshold into his palace. He was undoubtedly good looking; he would be a model for Vogue had he been born in our times. His hair was jet black and neatly combed, making his black eyes seem even darker. He had a strong jaw that was set under an impressive nose, and his clothing was fitting of a man of his status.

"Greetings," he said smoothly.

Clara and Scipio both got up and bowed. Ezio followed their example. Dante smiled and opened his arms. "There is no need for such formality between family members," he addressed his in-laws. He turned to Ezio, "You must be Auditore. My wife told me that we would be expecting you."

"It's an honor, sir," Ezio said out of habit.

Melina stepped forward and put a hand on her husband's shoulder. "Did you fix the problem at the bank, dear?"

Dante smiled lovingly down at his wife. "Yes, it was only a misunderstanding. One of the tax collectors charged too much on some poor fisherman's family. We rectified the situation and gave ample compensation for the mistake."

'_Well'_, Ezio mused, '_guess I won't have to be assassinating him anytime soon.'_

"My dear," Dante took his wife's hand, "are you ready?"

"Ready?" Melina's brow furrowed, "for what?"

"The doctor's appointment," Dante reminded her.

Melina gasped. "That's right! I completely forgot." She turned to her siblings with an apologetic look on her face. "I have to go see the doctor about the baby," she said. Dante smiled and patted her belly.

"We want to make sure that there won't be any complications," he explained.

"Of course," Scipio said, grinning at his sister.

"No need to apologize," Clara said simultaneously.

Melina's eyes brightened. "I have an idea. The appointment will only take an hour, so the three of you can explore the city and then meet us at the Ponte Saint Angelo."

"That sounds good," Ezio said. Maybe he'd get a chance to talk to Clara in private.

"Afterwards we'll take you to dinner," Dante announced, making everything official.

"In an hour then," Clara said.

Ezio did not get a chance to talk privately with Clara. Scipio dragged them throughout the entire city, pointing out every single detail and giving his commentary. He scarcely drew a breath the entire time, and Clara was too busy laughing at him to notice the desperate signs that Ezio was giving her.

Scipio's rant was interrupted when they reached the part of town where carriages unload. Although there were several carriages in the road, the trio's attention was drawn to a large black one that was barreling down the middle lane.

Clara squinted, trying to see through the dust thrown up by the wheels, "Isn't that the one we saw on the road of few days ago?"

"WAIT! THIS ISN"T FLORENCE!" a voice screamed.

"That voice," Ezio murmured, whipping his head around, "that's . . . Leonardo!"

Sure enough, the inventor was running down the road after the carriage. Unfortunately, four horses are much faster than the scrawny legs of a painter, and Leonardo soon gave up and flopped down in the middle of the street.

Worried, Ezio rushed over to him and shook his shoulder. "Leonardo!"

"Ezio?" the painter sounded dazed, and his eyes were glassy when he looked up at the assassin.

"What are you doing here?" Ezio questioned, pulling him up in a sitting position. By now Clara and Scipio had also run up.

"Are you okay?" Clara asked worriedly.

"There was a man who told me to . . . take a different carriage," Leonardo said faintly," but. . . he never mentioned . . . that the rider . . . was a . . . a . . ."

"A what?" Scipio probed.

The inventor looked at him and promptly fainted.

Ezio sighed, "Leonardo . . ."

"We should take him to my sister's house," Clara suggested.

"Good idea," Scipio said, "Melina would never turn someone in need down, and Giovanni is clay in her hands." Together he and Ezio lifted Da Vinci and carted him back to the Lombardi household with Clara following anxiously behind them.


	16. Here We Go Again

_**Well, now that I'm no longer grounded here's the next chapter of Ezio's Creed! *canned applause***_

_**This chapter is for Soapsuds 1994 for an amazing review. ^^**_

"So, little sister, tell me about Ezio."

Clara glanced up and, when she saw the assuming look in her elder sister's eyes, looked down to her lap. She shrugged her shoulders and said,

"He came to work in papa's bakery not too long ago. He's a hard worker, although there are times where he does tend to be lazy. He's strong and determined. His heart is good; he cares a lot about other people."

Clara hesitated.

Her sister lazily waved one hand in the air, "Go on."

"I think he's handsome," Clara blushed, "and I do like him very much. But," her hazel eyes turned troubled, "there's something that I think he's hiding."

"Hiding," Melina interrupted sharply, "What do you mean?"

Clara told her of the events in the Medici house. When she finished, Melina looked incredibly pale and fell back in her seat.

"Saint Peter," she moaned, rubbing her temples, "didn't I tell you to stay out of trouble, Clara?"

Clara started to anxiously twist a sash on her dress. "I didn't know that would happen," she defended herself, "I just wanted to catch Ezio in the act of lazing off and then. . ."

She trailed off and watched her sister. Melina's eyes were closed and her posture was rigid. At the silence, she opened her eyes and fixed her sister with a stern, motherly look.

"Never put yourself in that situation again," she commanded, "if you had been caught-"

"Ezio would have protected me!" Clara blurted out.

"Yes, Ezio," Melina's eyes narrowed, "I have been observing him ever since I first met him."

"And what are your thoughts on him?" Clara queried. Her sister's opinion mattered more to her than anyone else's. if she didn't approve of Ezio. . .

"He is a nice man," Melina said slowly, "arrogant, yes. Spoiled as a child, yes. Headstrong, yes. Foolish, no. He is mature, at the very least. But . . ." she looked her sister dead in the eye. "What are your feelings for him?

Clara didn't know how to respond. "I already told you that I think he's determined and-"

"I mean romantically," Melina interrupted.

Flames rushed to Clara's cheeks and once again she found herself looking down at her lap. "I don't . . . there's. . ."

"I can see that there is a large partiality on his side," Melina mused out loud.

Clara's head shot up, "You think he . . ."

"Loves you? Yes."

Clara blinked once. Twice. "What would make you think that?" she breathed, scarcely able to believe what her sister had just said.

"The way he looks at you." Melina said matter-of-factly, "it's the same way Dante looks at me."

It was impossible for Clara to say anything. Her thoughts were whirring around in her head at dangerous speeds, and logical thought was impossible.

"The only question that is left," Melina continued at Clara's silence, "is whether or not you love him back."

". . ." Clara looked down. "I do like him . . . very much. But I-"

"Don't want another Vincent?" Melina finished.

Clara hung her head. "Yes," she whispered.

Melina hugged her sister fiercely. "That man was a pig," she said angrily. "Courting you like that, promising to marry you. It's a good thing Scipio found out that he was already married."

"I thought he loved me," Clara sobbed. "I was ready to throw everything away for him. He wanted to elope and I was on the verge of saying yes when . . ."

"Ah, Scipio," Melina sighed. "He stormed into the room the two of you were in and punched that dastard in the face, yelling accusations at him."

Clara sniffed and grinned, "Actually, now that I think about it, it was kind of funny."

Melina smiled back at her, "It's a good thing you have such a loving brother."

Clara yawned. Melina stiffened and then said in horror, "Holy Mary I'm being so rude! It's two in the morning! You need your rest!"

"Two?" Clara looked at the clock resting on the mantle of the fireplace in the drawing room, "Saint Peter! I didn't even notice! The time flew by so quickly."

Melina stood up, pulling Clara up with her, "We would have stayed up all night chattering like magpies if I hadn't noticed the time. I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize,," Clara hugged her sister goodnight, "I always love talking to you, and we did have a lot to catch up on."

Melina giggled, "Dante is going to give me a hard time about this tomorrow. I promised that I wouldn't stay up late because of the baby . . ."

"Just flash that beautiful smile of yours at him and he will forget everything," Clara joked.

"EZIO!" Leonardo whisper-hissed in the assassin's ear, "WAKE UP!"

Ezio groaned and rolled over onto his side. "Go away," he grumbled.

Leonardo shook his shoulder vehemently, "No! it's time for you to get up. Have you forgotten about your mission?"

"All right, all right," Ezio pushed himself up and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. He glared up at Leonardo who was standing over his bed. Moonlight from the window allowed him to just barely see the strained look on the painter's face.

Leonardo grabbed his arm, "Up!"

Ezio yawned and stood up, staggering like a drunken man. He had gone to sleep in his assassin clothes, knowing that he would be too disoriented when he woke up to dress himself properly.

"You know," the assassin said in a low voice, "when people invite you to stay at their home, I don't think they want you running around at night, disturbing the other guests."

"Master Lombardi was kind enough to allow me to stay here for a few weeks, and I'm simply repaying the favor by making the city he lives in a safer place," Leonardo retorted.

"It was a jest, Leonardo," Ezio said over his shoulder as he fumbled with the knot on his knife belt. "Anyway, what is my job tonight?"

"Assassination," Leonardo said bluntly. "Luigi Valdari, a soldier for the pope, has been stealing girls off the streets and turning them into prostitutes. He is never caught because many of the nobility are active clients of his . . . business."

"Hmph," was all that Ezio said. If he even thinks of abducting Clara. . .

"He'll be patrolling around the Vatican tonight," Leonardo continued, "find him and show him how deadly your blade is."

"It shall be done," Ezio declared.

Really, it was odd how life tended to repeat itself. Clara had been heading back to her room after leaving Melinda at her husband's door when all of a sudden a flash of white caught her eye. She strained her eyes further into the darkness and was just in time to see Ezio slip out of his room, and move down the hall, away from her. Clara blinked in surprise. Where was Ezio going this late at night? Maybe he was sick. Making a quick decision, she hurriedly followed him down the hall. The medicinal herbs were kept in the kitchen, so Clara headed in that direction when she didn't spot Ezio again.

Five minutes later, her suspicions were proved true. She entered the spacious kitchen and saw Ezio making his way through the pots and pans that hung from the ceiling. Clara was about to call out to him but stopped when she realized that he was heading to the door leading to the garden. Confused, she watched his open the door, go through, and close it behind him without making a sound.

Maybe he needs some fresh air, Clara thought, I should go talk to him and make sure he's all right. She shuffled her way through the kitchen, bumping into counters and almost slipping on a discarded potato peel. She inwardly cursed her inability to see in the dark, but nonetheless proceeded to the back door. After groping the wood she found the handle and lifted it, causing the door to swing open.

The night was cool and peaceful. A slight breeze made Clara's curls dance around her face. Using one hand to keep her hair out of her eyes, Clara was just in time to see Ezio scale to garden wall and drop out of sight behind it.

This was absurd! It was exactly like the time he had snuck out of the bakery. And to think she had been worried that he might be sick! How ridiculous. Clara clenched her fists. Last time this had happened, she had followed Ezio into the Medici household, and he had given her some story about a delivery. Clara hadn't really believed him then, and she was determined to find out what he was doing now. Without a backwards glance at the house, she ran into the night after Ezio.

_**Hey, has anyone played Bioshock or Bioshock 2? I love those games! I'll even admit that I like them better than Assassin's Creed. No offense, Altair. Anywho, after I finish this story, I'm gonna be writing a story about Bioshock. Don't worry I'll be much better at posting new chapters this time. **_


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